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all lives
are books
with unfinished pages

stories told
without knowledge
of the end

life stories
always incomplete
with open-ended plots

to be continued
by those who go on
living
Fog
In this fog I stand
not sure how to live
any fruitful life in this land
Oh how this fog hides,
hides something so bad
Out here in the red, white and blue
we are taught to be free
"I should only care about me."
Yet we must have forgotten
we are taught to follow society
Nearly more valued than money
For this is America's greatest hypocrisy
We want popularity
We wish not to be free
in this land glazed in haze
in this grim-hopeless reality
I'm emotionless
Yet full of hate
But I don't really care
I'm heartless
Cause I've never known love
And it's not really fair
I'm expendable
Yet I have some value
Cause I lay my lies bare
I'm worthless, stupid
And I've never found the truth
If only I could remember where
Then my life may have some use

Until then...
I guess I deserve the abuse
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