I start out slowly, working hard
My steps can find no steady pace.
My daily runs I would discard
But never would I at such disgrace!
The wind whispers through my hair
Begging me to give chase.
Its caressing taunts I cannot bare
The wind is laughing in my face.
Gradually I begin to find
Something long misplaced.
That secret place within my mind
My steps begin to make haste.
Butterflies with purple wings
fly startled from my feet
I see before me so many new beginnings
Which one shall I meet?
So fly with joy little purple creatures,
For now the wind must give chase to me!
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