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You where born ill,
A deep sadness running through your veins, turning them black.
Eyes blank,
Heart full,
You could see how tired life was making you.
But like everything you wore it so well.
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YOU ARE READING
~ HUMAN INTROSPECTION ~
Poetry~*~*~*~ ~*~*~*~ A collection of poetry and philosophical questions made to question the relations and views we have of ourselves and others. I encourage readers to explore themselves and allow their thoughts to run unfiltered while reading. I hope...
