You're looking for help from things,
From other people, the world,
All unlikely to help you,
Although some might and some do,
And others just look to you.
I am, you say to yourself,
Ready for the flames, but no,
You're not. You're dying piecemeal
By hanging on to your life,
As almost everyone does.
You keep trying to escape,
A rabbit burrowing near
A volcano, determined
No ash will collapse your home.
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