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Between Sanity and Safety

I could sell you the future
for an ending.
Paint it
grey,
file it down
into something I can bite
and you'll find me
then let me go.

They never let me
follow the flow.
There's no muscle left
to swim upstream.
I'll watch from the banks
where I'm washed up
on a littered shore,
and you can steal my future,
letting me go as you take it away.

Author notes

Not quite sure, to be honest...

    I plan to revise this poem: please leave constructive criticism!
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