Old places fade hard, and no matter how long you row upstreamm
the water still makes waves that carry the rest of us away.
You are what you weep, from your head down to the sleet.
Fell, tripped up the stairs to the place void in all ints of home.
Watch with your heart, run with your gut,
ever so careful not to lose the fragile beauties of motivation.
A whir of warning winds signal back to birth.
Watch with your heart, run with your gut,
ever so careful not to loseyour mold.
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