'Innersoul'A Poem by PeteWhen a dog runs at you, whistle for him. - Thoreautoo soft too squishy too big too small none at all wool, sponge and cotton things begotten short and long forgotten heeding the starter pistol's call not wanting to ever fall i try them all thick and thin smooth and rough different colors with a different smell in this pounding race to avoid hell old ones with a hole ones that i stole calling dr. scholl in the uncushioned running shoes of my soul © 2024 PeteAuthor's Note
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2 Reviews Added on March 22, 2024 Last Updated on March 23, 2024 |

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