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Nov 2020
What are we
but the dirt
that was once
stars we
no longer
get to see,

the water
that once
was sea
plus or minus
parts ***
passing through
in human history.

What are we
but the convergence
of what ifs,
what was,
what wasn’t,
what is,
and what will
never get to be.

What are we
but strange dreams
made in
waking moments,
passing pleasantries
fading in
and infinity.
Written by
Graff1980  40/M/Litchfield Illinois
(40/M/Litchfield Illinois)   
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