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Untitled

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

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Written by
wanderer-2
Published
May 8, 2014
Lines·Words
15·54
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