
On my front porch tall bikes…
and shanty towns drip drop from sheets of rain. Punks hold out in the corners of a town where rent has doubled in one year,vacancy is less than one percent and artists are making their living scooping ice cream for stoned trust fund babies.
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About iknowyouknowmyheart
Ever Tried. Ever Failed. No Matter.
Try Again, Fail Again, Fail Better
-Beckett
Here I am right over there, running into opportunities to stop running and hoping they keep my scent until my prayers are answered and I am brave enough to slow down.
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