lacking

I am just a grain of herbicide-crusted sand stuck inside a baby's eye.

and it  frightens you that I intend to stay that way.

I am perfectly content inside my coffee cup, in between the covers of my notebook.

Does it frighten you I need nothing else, nobody else, nowhere else?

Put me in the path of a moving train, and I'll escape, cos that's the way I wrote my life.Testing fate at the flick of a pen.

My notebook and I will move like chess pieces across the board.

Knowing, we will never be stolen.

The End

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