Leaning against fate, feeling dizzy and weak
but still, leaning, never standing on my own
is that to be my future, leaning until I drop down?
Standing still, never moving, feet deep in the ground
am I a plant, rooted in the blackest, fertile dirt?
No, I'm a bird or a butterfly, longing to set off
Nevertheless embracing it all I encompass fate and ground
the stars, sun, moon and all the rest are powerless in this
they stay as I plan my escape somewhere, sometime
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Originally Posted On Site: 2009-12-08 07:33:32
Last Login: 05.22.12
Visits as of 12-12-07: 82
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