so many times ive walked this path
dried mud and fragments of rock are caked to my boots now
i walk and few miles, things look the same
i've passed that tree a thousand times
i just know it
so, i turn around, walk back
decide i made a mistake...
and carry on in the other direction again.
there are rules to poetry, even if they don't rhyme. something with syllables or stuff like that, i dunno. and tonight im to tired and frusterated to care. i spelled weird wrong on a post...
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