and when that envious man says “walk”
we run
afraid that the chief will cut us off
mid-sprint
we never listen
when the chief says “wait with me”
breathe, relax
toke, take a moment
live a little longer
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the sun shines brightly cutting through the haze into tight corners of the post-atomic daze the concrete alley floor, with its broken flow...
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for fourteen years i wished my father dead at the age of eighteen i buried him it would take another six years to be rid of his physica...
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