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Poetry

Will I make it to your arms

You’ve been silent or maybe I’m not listening.

Are my days reruns

Track I’ll never leave.

Ugly laps

Tired feet hurt knees.

Running

In place.

Will I make it to your arms?

Will I see a proud face gazing upon me?

It’s all I want.

Published by Edmond

Edmond is an INFJ layman writer, creating freestyle poetry as an outlet for his emotions for over thirty years. He can be reached at: Carolinawriter@protonmail.com

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