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May 2010
The Atmosphere was the witness
He watched me as i soar high
And elevated down the floor
It seem so ironic, hoping for a mistake
Glistening upon their acts of parasite

Its so sick, totally its killing me
They may innocent at the first place
But later, they changed their colors
As before a light and silent
Later on, black was govern everything

Its bright was nailed in the inner part
Unwillingness was intensely in frame
It never touch by a merely hand
Not even water dissolved their strength

Sometimes as I pass by to their eyes
They accused me of wearing the guilty clothing line
It breaks my glass inside
And tear apart all my papers
Which signifies the signature in me
The passes through the infinity

Hey, is there any hope in a stalker like me?
I need to shift from this low class human being
To something a head turner in a positive ways
Building again the last integrity
That I had put inside my pocket

Dearest moment, are you still there?
Come, I invite to go with me
As I pull myself out from this tall bottle
Be my stronghold in this opera
Mark Rubilla
Written by
Mark Rubilla
717
     D Conors and Sheri
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