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Apr 2013
I am sitting, alone, on a chair in a lonely room.
The walls are brown, the ground is grey.
Every time I hear something, I quickly try to
find, searching, where the sound came from.

The sound was nothing but a movement of
the building, changed, affected by the wind.
The sound returns more frequently as I make
my way, walking towards the door without a handle.

Suddenly I cannot hear it anymore, I'm sure it's there
So very sure, but I guess I am finally used to it.
My mind is at ease and everything seems better than before.

I tried ramming, knocking, bashing even beating and
pounding but this door just will not budge. It is not
that I am too weak, deep inside, I just don't want to leave.
Daan
Written by
Daan  Belgium
(Belgium)   
3.5k
   Rapunzoll, Rose, --- and Gary Muir
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