composure

She Thought she was right

Running for the hills

Looking for a secure sunset

or

A place to fade away

Both will offer simple delights and delusions

Neither fulfill nor cure

 Yelling at sky

“Let me be pure”

Only to be surround by another group with motives

Empty again

Wondering where she went wrong

 As she walks gathering her composure

GB

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Kimberley Eastep

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