WinA Poem by Melancholic Tellurian
I'm in a race for the upper hand,
And I am taking it far behind, Walking slowly like a marching band, Triumphant joy was nowhere to find, Finding myself in a grain of sand, Rejuvenating this misused mind, My legs just can't even take a stand, Saw the reality yet I'm blind. © 2018 Melancholic Tellurian |
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Added on November 25, 2018 Last Updated on November 25, 2018 Author
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