Second-hand shoes

Look how easy it is to fall
into the default cast
and move through time
tied to the shoes of the past.
We grow into them with ease
as if by some incurable disease.
The sun will always rise
and bleed the same light
across the skies
until the return of night.

We are but echoes
who scream into the darkness:
Die young and save yourselves,
before you become someone else.

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