Friday, September 08, 2006


I got sick, he got a job
I fell flat face, he got cold feet
He pursued, I saw faults, in both of us and the world
I got sick, and all I wanted was to run away
Where to? What from?
To someone else's sureness
To someone else's game of twister
To another's life in the sun
To another's daring to be free
Even more free than I have become?
Bring out the ruler, and tell me
Just how free is this new me?
But first let's establish which world we are measuring in
The world I come from?
The world I have aspired to and fitted in?
Or the world in my head?
I sat still for three days and all I saw was torment
Objectivity, relativity, high bench marks and questions
Left all up to me
I got sick, and all I feel is the urge to run away

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