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Mar 2016
Birds migrating
fly from here to there
Their lives now are changing
nothing seems to persevere

There's never a home
It's always a race
Loneliness comes
to hide there's no place

What's the point
in the move?
Things never joint
They never improve

And from here to there
tears are shed

Through air
their eyes can be read
Life is not fair
Wrote this at 16, guess i had something to say.
Paulina Falomir
Written by
Paulina Falomir  Mexico City
(Mexico City)   
  715
     ---, Sisilia, ---, ---, Aeerdna and 1 other
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