Transport (an acrostic poem)

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There were times he just wanted to get away

Race from wherever he was to someplace new

A place where no one knew him

No way that was going to happen now

So many things had happened over the past few years

People recognized him everywhere

Only if he could go back to being a nobody would he be truly happy

Reaching for his wine glass he raised a toast to himself

That’s what you get when you figure out the path to making it big