The cool calm summer breeze,
You will always be the fallen tide,
The beggar groveling on his knees,
I will always be the stars that light up the sky,
The crisp glint of the moon's lone wheeze,
You will always be the raccoon faking your own death,
Being the dead limbs in the trees,
I will always be the runner who finishes the race,
The one who hears the crowds like the seas,
You will always be the runner who never fully began,
Because I am the one who believes.
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