Saturday, January 24, 2009

I'm a runaway.
When I was born
They shut me up
Inside myself.
Ah, but I ran away.

If people get sick
Of living in
The same old place,
Why not of living
In the same old skin?

My soul is on
The lookout for me,
But I lie low.
Will it ever find me?
Never, I hope!

Being myself only
Means being pinned down
And no one at all.
I'll live on the run,
And really live!

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