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Jan 2013
I swing to fly.
I swing to jump over the sun,
sometimes the moon.
I swing to make the loud quiet.
I'm always swinging.
Back and forth.
Forward and back.
Never really moving.
Swaying.
That's why I swing.
I wish the sun was closer.
I jump
and always fall short.
The moon is so far away.
Circa 1994
Written by
Circa 1994  Florida
(Florida)   
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