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The Way Out.

You always run, run far away
as fast as you can go.
Fate hungry at your heels,
hot on the trail of hope.

And you endure it till you learn this.
Suffer through this recurrence.
As echoes of the ancient drown out
the dream until you earn it.

You fall, descend yet again
flat on your fucking face,
singing your song, “I don’t belong.”
Well, then: make yourself a place.

Suck it up. There’s work to do.
Don’t just lay down and let it bleed.
No excuse, you always choose.
Now: back up on your two left feet…


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