grow...
rarely to stare towards detour
conditioned patterns paint us
forging the rest and building up....upon.....blind plans...
waving steps
on and beyond
big directed sense of direction
a mirror of words worth longing...for....
something such as love, belief, and what never met you in person.....
troubled with talking to walls
lost
listening to halls...where spirits remain.......
burdened by the stain
reign all emotions in....
a sincere wish granted
for the earth to breath at
leave seeds to bleed, work the dirt to grow, bury time.........it will come to us
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