What am I after all

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It seems like walking has become another chore

I don't think i can keep on walking anymore

Forgive me for these words, i know their rather cliche to you

But im tired and my feet are feeling sore

Often im told i need to clean up my act

Although maturity is that something i lack.

So when simple problems arise, i over think them over and over again

This world, is such a troublesome place

Somedays i think i should end the pain

But i know that i can never escape

So just makes me cry even more

And as my tears run down my face

I figure that i just need some space

But of course, my theory is never correct

And i end up hurting those near me

If what you can think on your own determines who you are

What am i after all!!!

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