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May 2014
Every day
Another scene
Of the same **** thing
Painted smiles
Plastic words
Everybody talks
But nothing gets heard
And one thing
Blurs into every other
And the price we pay
For no real prize
Is to **** our hearts
Our whole **** lives
Till we're just vacant eyes
With no soul left inside
wanderer
Written by
wanderer
305
   Antonio and ---
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