Flee Poem by Windsor Guadalupe Jr

Flee



This is one of the worst nights.
Cold
Tired
Wanting to sleep
But deprived of the ability
The natural stimulus to do so.

Run.
Run.
Run.

Perhaps, I should run
Off to nowhere
Have you seen a path so protracted
That it appeared almost endless?
I don’t know what I am doing,
But to run
With no further reason
Just drag these limping, superfluous legs
I will endure the winter
For the winter is my closest friend.
Nevertheless,

Run.
Run.
Run.

It’s the only option I have.

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