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mythie Oct 2018
Blaring sirens and flashing lights.

Make it hard to concentrate.

On the traintrack.

There are multiple paths.

I must decide which I go down today.

Tomorrow, again and again.

The road is covered in a thin layer of rain.

Making it slippery.

A dangerous ‘venture.

The horns blare louder.

The lights blur my vision.

If I can’t take a path.

I should make one on my own.

The train is coming.

The end is in sight.

And I jump down onto the tracks.

— The End —