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The slow ride

Updated on May 26, 2014

The slow ride

I have crawled, to walked, and ran....when I could,

Now I fly in all my memories,

I lay upright in a flat land to grab a hand I should,

I can not see a more fast pace than my slow ride,

As I glance at figures and mirrors, I still feel the depths of nothingness,

I pride myself on trying to have pride, but I hide inside, and inside I live,

My pace is troubling in the sense of will I make it, not that I'm going to slow,

Will I see the end of the slow ride, or will my ride end with me,

All I know is I'm still going, going slow on this ride.


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