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Jan 2017
Window in the front,
portal by his side.
Performed a stunt,
and stopped the ride.
.
For him, it was a choice made,
for others, no other way.
Walls were only there to aid,
bricks for someone else to lay.
There was no need to be afraid,
for everything, they had to pay.
Time he wished he could trade,
for tracks that sometimes go stray.
Forest always seen as a shade,
not answering, when they pray.
In the end, the words will fade,
everything is written in the final play.
.
To care for lights,
he was taught.
Now through nights,
the train of thought.
Vladimir Kuntic
Written by
Vladimir Kuntic  Belgrade, Serbia
(Belgrade, Serbia)   
313
 
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