Too Young

Clouds, delicate and feathery,
Dancing in the sky
To the beat of the winds;
Too wild to stop here,
Too young to know
Where to go next.

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Finding Myself

Scorched by the Sun,
Scratched by the thorns,
I walk through streets and woods alike
In a desperate pursuit.
Melting into a puddle of tears,
Freezing in the hold of a frigid numbness.
A lone wolf out for hunt,
Or perhaps just a helpless pup roaming in the city , barely alive.

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