Survivors of the first pattern that feared death
Born a slave to the chain of events binding every breath

This story was written, but the last chapter is torn
All efforts to piece together a story to fit in, but a mirror is all that's ever formed

As your breathe fogs the final pages
Words form like thoughts on shower glass
Take the time to teach those that take time for granted, and maybe then it won't be seen as a snake in the grass
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