A New World from the Old
(Poetic Prose)
When I was young, very young, I ruled the playgrounds at school with my energy, flashing with courage and eagerness, as if in a battle, my glance—keen, and from this I became an obstinate, pig-headed teenager, and then as a young adult I shot up, thinking I was impossible and angry; I shrugged my shoulders thereafter, and then suddenly I quite drinking, and acquired an occupation—although before that, it had been the other way, I was amazed, I counted for something—and thought, “What a world to go back to.”
No: 2708 (5-27-2010)
(Poetic Prose)
When I was young, very young, I ruled the playgrounds at school with my energy, flashing with courage and eagerness, as if in a battle, my glance—keen, and from this I became an obstinate, pig-headed teenager, and then as a young adult I shot up, thinking I was impossible and angry; I shrugged my shoulders thereafter, and then suddenly I quite drinking, and acquired an occupation—although before that, it had been the other way, I was amazed, I counted for something—and thought, “What a world to go back to.”
No: 2708 (5-27-2010)
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