and it may sound like another
tribute to the nothings
of my heart
a filled mind on the
brink of real time
and there seems to
be a limit to the held
fears and everything
that goes along
with living..
and in the
carelessness
of our selfish hours
how we don't discern
beyond broken glass
the pieces glisten as if to make
some sense
and if we can, and let ourselves see
we can see each
holds a purpose
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