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Rated: E · Poetry · Experience · #1754790
A metaphorical evaluation of when someone seems to have taken one's means to stand alone.
I just can't seem to find my feet.
(am I floating or have I fallen down?)
Either way, without feet it's hard to stand.

I tried, but my shoes won't fit my legs--
They're made for my feet.
(oh where have they gone?)
So the search begins.
(but do I crawl or fly?)

Does losing one's legs teach one to soar?
Or does it simply force one to be content with sitting?
(what will it do to Me?)

I need my feet--to stand, to run.
(come back please, I'm stuck here.
I'm not ready to fly.)

Why won't you give them back?
I know that you kept them.
(although you still have yours--you can't possibly need four.)

I'll get them back, just wait.
Then I can choose when to run and when to stand.
I'll give them away Myself when I'm ready to fly.
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