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Shadow.
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WpMetadataReadOngoing<5 mins
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Sat, Sep 20, 2014
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Poetry
Cliche Cliche And yet you can hear the echo Of the clock striking the hour of truth. Never have I been so devoted I question it every day Clinging to the memories that were once Our Realities. How does she do it? Keep me beside her Like my life depends on it I don't even know her name But I apparently know her story Quite well.
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