March 29, 2010
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The hypnotic hum of the computer,
an old sweet taste of underbrushed teeth, and blood shot eyes.
This is youth.

Trapped in our rooms at night,
the longing of the world heavy in our hollowed minds.

Music skimming the surface of your psyche,
And you're out.

Sleep holds little solitude,
only tortured reminders of what could be yours,
you grab for it like a child grabs for it's toy.
your desperation is your downfall.

this is youth
and there is little consolation

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