48 lines
1.4 KiB
Text
48 lines
1.4 KiB
Text
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warning
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2019-01-21
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***
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I stand at the edge of the void and I scream
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"isn't there any hope left for me?"
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no response, just as I expected
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just a drop in the sea and my own damn reflection
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something in the water starts to swirl
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the boat rocks- and I think I might hurl
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all the words I spat up as a babe three years hence
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before I decided to look over the fence
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and as I turn my head to the sky, what should I see
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but my muses, heads and bodies numbering three
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"we knew what would happen.
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why didn't you listen?
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you could have avoided
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your own perdition.
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now get up and start taking life into your own hands.
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for too long, you've cast your gaze at unattainable lands.
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your name's not Lucine- or Seliph, or Chiki.
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what you are comes from inside of you, not from a screen.
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remember, you don't have to ask permission to *be*.
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to breathe, to move, to choose what you believe.
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your name is your own, regardless of those you call 'friends'.
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damn their approval! it won't matter in the end.
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those who matter will know when to clap,
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and the rest will all blow away in the never-ceasing wind like chaff.
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we know you're penning these words to convince yourself.
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so as long as you have the reins and your brain's on the shelf:
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you exist, no matter what other people say.
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you make a mark on the world in your own special way.
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maybe it's hidden, maybe it's obscure-
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but unless you live as yourself, you'll never know for sure."
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***
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CC BY-NC-SA 4.0 (c) Vane Vander
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