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Pen-stroke

If I prove I have nothing to prove,
Or that I have everything to lose,
Then I'll head back home,
Worked to my bones.
You can laugh, say that you told me so:
Say that I have nowhere left to go,
But until that day,
I'll test my fate,
Crawl my way through this game, pen-stroke by
Pen-stroke.

J. H. Mende