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I feel my clothes catch on jagged rocks, but I mustn't slow my pace. Hands from limbs of unseen trees, slap me in the face. Exhausted and worn I carry on, boots kick up dirt and mud. Thirsty lips that long for dreams, onward must I trudge. I have hope tucked in my pocket, and luck strapped to my back. I'm bent yet never broken, no time to count the things I lack. Monstrous rocks that block my way, they will move to my command. I'm pure strength and determination, in this shell they call a man.
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Mar 19, 2015
Mar 19, 2015 at 2:17 AM UTC
Mover Of Mountains
I feel my clothes catch on jagged rocks, but I mustn't slow my pace. Hands from limbs of unseen trees, slap me in the face. Exhausted and worn I carry on, boots kick up dirt and mud. Thirsty lips that long for dreams, onward must I trudge. I have hope tucked in my pocket, and luck strapped to my back. I'm bent yet never broken, no time to count the things I lack. Monstrous rocks that block my way, they will move to my command. I'm pure strength and determination, in this shell they call a man.
awesome-annie
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Mar 19, 2015
Mar 19, 2015 at 2:17 AM UTC
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