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Oct 2017
The cold it numbs, but the memories last
The shackles that hold me grow tighter with each breath
But freedom it seems I just cannot grasp
Seconds seem like hours
Hours seem like years
and time itself I seem to have lost
For fear keeps me chained,
and darkness steals what little light is left in the world
Brooklyn René
Written by
Brooklyn René  22/F
(22/F)   
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