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The past moves Fast.

Hold your mistakes.
Doesn't it burn?
When you hold on for so long your fingers ache
and your stomach churns.
Hiding under the weight
is overbearing
Your knees shake and
everyone is staring.
The sweat turns to tears,
your knees turn to ash.
You listen to their sneers,
You turn and you ask,
Why do I only grasp to the past?
Your tears can grow wings,
And your knees can be reborn.
You are capable of so many things.
Trust me,
I've done it before.




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