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■ I know what you're thinking, father
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I can’t stop seeing myself through you,
The one before me, the door I can’t notice, The window so cold that freezes these scars Until they hurt even more. It’s amazing! I swear, I never felt this before. Imagine yourself as a piece of paper, Colourful and bright With a contagious smile that no one could deny And in a split of a second, A big part of you is torn apart In small pieces which the wind, of course, blows without remorse. Your left is flying and you can’t stop it, Written in grey, pure nothing without a face or energy. And there’s no painter to paint you back again. You find yourself completely numb With green eyes, not blue. Resignation to imperfection When it was possible in its impossible mystery. Thursday, November 20, 2008 9:04:28 PM
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