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What seems so straightforward when coming towards me, is twisted, I see, on the back foot, the hop, it has caught me I stop. Nothing can change the way I change the way that I hit the day running, always running away. I stop, lay my thoughts to one side, confide to my maker take a moment, consider, did I really do that? It's not often I pray and seldom when running away. Straightforward's not so or not that I know, it has hook and crooks and dismally looks so severe, never here though, not even when coming towards me and giving me warning or towering above me. I cower in alcoves just to be safe, secure is a place I know, changing the pace I go and hide.
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Mar 24, 2015
Mar 24, 2015 at 9:10 PM UTC
The optical line
What seems so straightforward when coming towards me, is twisted, I see, on the back foot, the hop, it has caught me I stop. Nothing can change the way I change the way that I hit the day running, always running away. I stop, lay my thoughts to one side, confide to my maker take a moment, consider, did I really do that? It's not often I pray and seldom when running away. Straightforward's not so or not that I know, it has hook and crooks and dismally looks so severe, never here though, not even when coming towards me and giving me warning or towering above me. I cower in alcoves just to be safe, secure is a place I know, changing the pace I go and hide.
john-edward-smallshaw
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Mar 24, 2015
Mar 24, 2015 at 9:10 PM UTC
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