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Egle
Poems
Apr 10
The Passenger
My feet move forward
in soldier-like pace,
drawn into a war—
no room to retrace.
Youth in my chest,
bland orders in hand.
and still my gaze stray;
I’ve never found rest.
I hopped on the train,
I’m here on your track.
Got windows to watch
the days rushing by—
an echo of life,
a life that’s not mine.
Written by
Egle
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