Weaving in and out of trees of discomfort,
I’ll be fine as i’ve become the master of disguise.
Unsure of what the future holds,
I seek comfort in these notes.
From the outside looking in,
It’s all laughter without sin.
Realistically I’m hiding all of that heart felt trauma.
I’m stuck at the middle of the cross roads,
I’m now on my own all alone,
With no guidance to be shown.
They have a spell on me,
One in which I cannot flee.
Don’t stop running,
I’m not going to stop running.
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