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It's the continuous sound of something familiar;
Something common in the way we all glow
and grow as the things we know
change within a different range
This is the time my soul goes in hiding.
And I know observing could be self-blinding,
but to hear rings of truth in the waves
Of your voice, I’m afraid
I don’t have much of a choice.
I keep my mouth shut and focus.
I will only speak if I know this.
And while I try to understand this familiarity,
I exist without existing entirely.
Am I the only one who's really fascinated by the huge similarities we have with different people? Yet still we are not the same.
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