Sunday, May 3, 2009

My Swinging Legs

I run
Toward the edge
of my limit
Either my right says don't; or my left says keep moving
Not to find a marauding of animals
Though the outcrop crosses me upright

I don't run for a thing;
for someone;
for a cheap talk;
for your mind;
for some yells;
for a care...

Things I don't need
Which I don't give a heck bout it
Don't mean a thing of it
I will run and never stop
Never ever say no way
Manoeuvre doesn't skulk
My movement is mine
My brain still works
My heart keeps on pumping
My legs ain't about to die

So I'd rather say:
I was born to do this!

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