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Sep 2012
They came to me, like the ocean meets the sand,
They listened, but they still could not understand
They wanted to hear more of the words I had spoken,
They tried to manufacture, they found the mould broken.

They saw the unique, many copies they made,
Identical, each there creation, replayed,
They celebrated; succumbed to their self made illusion,
They cast the broken aside to control the confusion.
Roma Carlo
Written by
Roma Carlo
622
 
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