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Sep 2017
I'm not sure when it happened.
When I stopped moving foward.
Surely it couldn't always have
been this way.

Did I get here by accident?

Somewhere on the road to middle age,
I pulled my sensible sedan
to the side of the road.

Sitting under a shady overpass
content to watch the world
pass me by.

I can't do this.

I can't sit still.

Life is movement,
and struggle.

To stop moving forward
to stop struggling
to stop growing
to stop changing

is to stop living!
David Hall
Written by
David Hall  35/M/Nashville
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