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14h
We built
a tower
with hands
that did not know
how to touch.

It rose,
stone by stone.
Each word was a brick.
Each silence,
the mortar.
Promisesβ€”
now vanished in the air.

We stood
at the bottom,
blaming the height
for our achesβ€”
but the tower
was never
what broke us.
Marc Morais
Written by
Marc Morais
93
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