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Oh how I love running
On tracks of grey stones.
Gold, silver and bronze medals
Decorating my neck
Trophies and shields
Varnishing my hands;
But nothing more liberating
Than living through yourself
Pressing against the wind
With all your might
And breaking out of the burden
That you can't fly.
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YOU ARE READING
And the Petals Fall | ✔
Poetry❃ From one of the flowers in my infinite garden, I present to you a caricature of its petals. ❃
