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A Resting Spot
  Aren’t these stairs perfect for a rest?
  Grasping the wooden rail I read the past thoughts.....Sarah loves John and be free
  Peacefully quiet
  Where’d that soft breeze go?
  The small city below, filled with busy people, and i'm up here, free.
  All mine
  My hand slips of the rough rail and I leap off the last wooden step, landing on hard ground.
  My pace picks up, I begin running again, racing home

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