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The place we go…

The eggshells they limit the walking space

Placed on the ground removes good grace

Manipulation of thoughts, pictures et tu

Are not what it seems, not out of the blue

No crumbled decisions, nothing to surprise

Dark shades surround and bitterness eyes

Are dead like old Memories, colors of red

Like anger projects, words left unsaid

Shadows cover the shackles of lead

Drowning in the waters, over ones head

Much Love Much Life