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Aug 2011
Let’s see the world run backwards,
where the trees grow toward your hands
and you wish the air was softer.
The flickering light
would burn out bright.
The cracks would fade
into the mirror
and the holes would fill with sand.

Let’s see the flow be broken,
why should we see control.
Owning what we believe
and holding on to what we see.
Just feel why your eyes blind you,
the burning rubber in your mind.
Written by
Lauren Cunningham
490
   Andrew Name
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