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reaching
19 Nov 2002
it was a hand-me-down visage
this one so knowing yet so lost
in this hand-me-down religion
burying the truth in frost
it was like a morning sunrise
where the colors aren't quite real
in the wake of never knowing
when you hurt yourself to feel
all ripped to shreds and pieces
and bare in the beams of light
complete and lost in the same moment
knowning control exists
and the answers that you needed
were just inch or two away
and you know that you could reach them
if you only had a way
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