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Apr 2018
open up so i can touch
your steel-cold architecture.
no life was breathed into your
memory unit.

imitation of a brain
here we go again counting.
your soul is loaded and then
in a cough-
deleted.

no religion persuades you
here we go again counting.
your birthplace many, and i
look into your eyes daily.

all you know is yourself
even with a memory
you only know when to start
you're only told when to stop.
Written by
Sam Hexer  16/M/Lancashire, England
(16/M/Lancashire, England)   
173
   SPT
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