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Retreat Stories

retreat

This poem only available on Stories Space. If you are reading it elsewhere, it has been stolen.Here is my fence, and here's where I sit;There are two sides I see, and I feel like a twit.There is no middle place that is both safe and sound;Rather, both sides pull my legs 'til I fall to the ground.Up here, I can see many points of strong view,And sometimes it's easy to know what to do.But others, it seems like I can't find...