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Sometimes the house is too small.
Don't look at me.
With your unseeing eyes,
don't look at me.

Don't touch me.
With your unfeeling hands,
don't touch me.

With the world wide open before me,
I don't need you to ignore me.

And I haven't the patience for fighting,
for I have been struck by lightening.

So come along for the ride,
or please step aside.
I haven't the deftness for hiding.
This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

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