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Nov 2013
I find it silly to write about love
I find it wild to think about the stars up above
I can't seem to comprehend what appears to be key
A brilliant image before my eyes that I'm unable to see
So I touch, and feel, painting the picture in my head
But there's no use in creating what's already been, oh wait, I'm dead
Written by
Christopher Habla  Georgia
(Georgia)   
277
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