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Whirr. Click.
There goes the copy machine.
One copy. Two copies. Three copies. Four copies...
Aren't we all copies?
Nine copies. Ten copies. Eleven...
Of a bigger picture.
Fourteen copies. Fifteen copies...
Does it ever end?
Nineteen. Twenty...
No. Because underneath,
We're all what no one can be.
Twenty-three copies...
And that is-
Twenty-five copies...
Who knows anymore?

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clumsyteardropper said...
Nov. 17, 2011 at 7:21 pm
oooh I liked that... because you made it sound like an actual copy machine, it had a really intense rhythm to it.  Almost like the drums in the background of a song.  Great work :)
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