Everything has been seen,
everything has already been.
I'm becoming so tired
of the same old routine.
I want to take these blues
that are my yawning old news
and make them a fresh green
to banish their sore bruise.
If I am to smile
I must travel many mile
where, I'm yet to choose
but this may take a while.
So now I will pack
and follow the pavement's crack
but to this broken past pile
I will not look back.
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