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Dec 2020
Wanting to be heard, with nothing to say
Old recitations to dialogue in a play
We speak, in echoes, like poetry, it rhymes
And the father of learning is repetition

What only concerns is the comfort in your reflection

Death is a comfort that doesn't exist
When you're dead, nothing really is
Nothing really is, and nothing will be
Consistency
Written by
Psych-o-rangE  24/M
(24/M)   
586
     guy scutellaro and Jeremy Stacy
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