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May 2015
Searching for more
Getting a grip
Feeling the air
Fill my lungs

They pulse
In and away
Like my heart
On warmer days
Or my hand
Clenched in cold
My racing thoughts
And getting old

Up a rope
Infinitely long
Pulling and pulling
Lungs, stay strong

With not my hands shall i climb
Up up and away to the divine
Curtis
Written by
Curtis
237
   paper boats and SPT
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