My legs have a habit of failing me
When I'm running away
Racing the thoughts
Hoping to reach the end before they can cut me off
But they always remain ahead of me
A step ahead of me
A mile ahead of me
A lap ahead of me
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ŞiirMy mind is like a poisoned apple. From a simple glance, everything seems fine. But once you taste it, it becomes a whole different story. . . . Highest Ranking: [#66 in Poetry]
