It is you

What if when people watched your movement,

They could take from you in a second.

The people who count you,

Break you,

Make you.

They could do anything to do you,

And you followed.

What if movement was your religion,

Your God,

Your lover.

If it was gone,

You where gone.

When you broke

You couldn’t complain,

Any pain was the game.

But you knew this about your


It was you life,

Your soul

And you.

You wouldn’t, nor

Couldn’t change that.

Your movement.

The End

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