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I'm in a snow globe that you're always shaking.
Look at the glass.
I think it's breaking.
The snow settles around me like my heart in my chest,
As I realize I failed, though I tried my best.
Sometimes I hope my snow globe falls,
so my world comes crashing to an end.
Other time I wish the glass would break,
and I'll be free.
So i won't have to strive for you to be proud of me.
But for now, I'm content
in my cold, dim dome.
When will I please you,
or make you proud?
Who really knows?
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