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Bluebird Dec 2014
I go contantly in circles,
the past and the future addled together
making a bow,
my hands shake so desperately,
i don't know which way to go.
What awaits me in the end,
i can't help but to fear,
deeper in hell i descend,
with every falling tear.
Which way to select,
so my heart won't ache ,
i can't help but to suspect,
the past makes me fly into a rage.
No back ,no forth,
when i said to myself "i'm fine", i've lied,
my compass shows no south or north.
                   Can't you see that i am terrified?
choosing my path.

— The End —