On a dark night with moments to spare,
I ran from something,
as but a girl.
I kept on running,
missed becoming a woman,
looked back and blinked my eyes,
and wondered where I misplaced myself.
I misstepped once,
fell down and kept on running,
got to another corner,
and waited to run again.
It became like a merry go round,
running and chasing pretty things,
round and round I go,
in an endless circle of fear.
The paint eventually fades,
then my mind begins to wander,
my hearts starts a racing,
and my feet itching to run.
Run , run, as fast as I can,
where I stop I wish I knew.
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