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Poetry
Top voted Poetry
#4671voted by our readers
By Anonymous
Sprinting through the thick and foreboding forest with nothing but my legs and my slowly dying hope, it felt as if my legs were moving by themself like they had a mind of their ow...
Sprinting through the thick and foreboding forest with nothing but my legs and my slowly dying hope, it felt as if my legs were moving by themself like they had a mind of their ow...