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There has to be strength within my lungs
A beat upon my chest
And breath within my mouth
Exhaling all negativity
Ridding the mass un-harmonic
deities that come from the sins
which one battles within
I fight a good fight
I muster the strength. Gather
the muscles to bend and arch in my arm
Close within fists and move
With the sway of Cassius Clay
Jab. Move. Stick and
Move swiftly.
Swiftly I run
And gather my strength
Within bodily rhythms and balanced bones
I glide upon asphalt and rocks two toned
running miles upon wet sand
tender muscles and nerves adapt
to the freedom in strength which I react
Moving closer to wisdom
Insight and Positivity
Away from the well trodden path
Give me strength, Lord
Have mercy
On me.

This is for Aunt Shirley & Will. Keep on Keeping on.

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