Some Outside Help
Focal point is lost
Falling, dreaming, running after
Somehow, ignoring the cost
And writing with an unnamed lead.
Stand up, and make the fresh clot bleed
In a grave, miles back, I lost some things
An innocence, a dream, an untamed breed
From when childhood mated with reality
The chain was strong, but I'm an escapee
The traps have been set, the holes covered
Soy debil; the cold, wind feels free
My own chains are strong, but I have the key.
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