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Aug 2014
Each picture fades
Every moment dulls and decays
At least before the end

So that another can

You're here until your gone so just sing your song and let the hands move on

I watch them tick ever too closely
Check my stock ever too often
Yet let the the fruits of my labor spoil still

I toss over it every night

I wake up wondering if the night has really ended
Like a dream I'm truly trapped in
What happened to me?
I lost sight of myself
Joseph Rommel
Written by
Joseph Rommel
250
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