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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