Moving On

I want to leave this place

But my feet won’t budge;

I’ve a past I wish to erase

But I hold onto each grudge.

I’m slipping into quicksand,

Every step a little deeper;

I’ve nowhere left to stand-

These cliffs seem steeper.

Where would I go from here?

What can I expect up ahead?

How will I get over my fear?

Or will I just wind up dead?

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