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Surviving

April 18, 2010
By Anonymous

Everything drips
Everything drops
Dark ink in my pen
Warm tears on my cheeks
Crisp leaves from the trees
Wiggly worms in birds' beaks


Everything fades
Everything grays
Rough paint on the walls
Vibrant colors I see
Sunny summer mornings
Old feelings he had for me


Everything changes
And nothing stays the same
So what's the point of life?
It's just one big game.

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