Stillborn

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Looking back through
the window of a dream,
The slight hiccup
of a hummingbird's wings,
The pinpoints of time
seem to unravel,
Whispering to me in
an incoherent babble
Terrible truths,
buried and forgotten,
Beneath a hardened shell
and a mask wrongly begotten
How, oh how, did this
game suddenly begin?
Oh, how it looks so real
from the outside looking in





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