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Apr 2015
Mundane steps,
common thoughts, (so unoriginal),
like stripes on a zebra.
They haunt me.

Didn't I say the sun was setting?
Sunshine pours through me,
filling me with hope.
Guess I was wrong.

Now I glow.
And I grow.
And I wait.

One day that sun will blast
the shadow that walks past my window
into something real.

My steps will no longer be mundane,
or just mine.

Fresh footprints in the sand -
mine, yours, and a little pair in between.

But it's hard to make footprints on a boat, chasing the sun around the world.
Nyssa Elena Jacobsen
Written by
Nyssa Elena Jacobsen  Cornwall, England
(Cornwall, England)   
455
   September
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