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Walking
December 21, 2007
Walking
I’m walking on top of the crusty snow
All alone, not a friend or a foe
My footprints follow closely behind
While I am stuck inside a wandering mind
I hear the wind blow as loud as can be
Yet I can feel nothing; I am not free
Like a prisoner I walk not knowing my fate
Hoping someone will come and unlock this mental gate
The night grows darker and I fall deeper, deeper inside
The only end I can see, is an end to my pride
For I am lost inside this soul,
Walking alone without my control
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