Run AwayA Poem by The Revisionistfor the runners
Of every race we run,
everything now... will simply be a memory. The race has no name, because imperfection... is nameless as it is unfinished. Running in circles, we are reborn... every morning we wake up changed. Of all the runners, we all want to be run aways... we all want to run to be free to feel alive to be different ... but the secret is obvious. It's a secret and so, everyone knows. It's this... W E always H A V E a C H O I C E © 2014 The RevisionistAuthor's Note
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4 Reviews Added on July 29, 2014 Last Updated on July 29, 2014 Author
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