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Apr 2016
down and out
on the fringe
clinging to life
fingers like powder
just looking up
but tripping back
shoelaces too tight
they untie themselves
scrambling too quickly
I glimpse darkness
an unknown hole
demands its dinner
I keep tripping
legs like rubber
and its over
I let go
John
Written by
John  28/M/New York
(28/M/New York)   
321
   Flying Away
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