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Everything is relative.

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Prepare to propel into the place where I dwell: the idiosyncratic; my thoughts set to automatic, never stun.
Be willing to run if you're wanting to live.
Walk carefully, the bridges may give.
The hinges of your mind will all fall to pieces.
No matter your strength, you'll not halt my thesis.
And the thing about bruising your knees is that its oh so apparent you've been begging;
Singing the tune to cease your wedding to conformity, mediocrity.
How we adore false reality, and we fight for false claims,leaving our lost egos to blame.
We follow wherever he goes, or she goes,lacking even menial retention.
We claim freedom of thought yet stroll into detention.
And, alas, when we fall, enjoying the toll of it all, our appetite becomes voracious;
Our stomachs less and less spacious;
Our conscious' less and less gracious.
And we're thrilled to the gills that not a soul can make us,
Be more than we wish to be.
We rise and knock the chip off our shoulder, supposing were golden, with our mark of originality.
We're merely a speck in the sea, the same as any other, a drop in the vast expanse.
Though someone else is bound to defeat me (everything is relative), I will continue to scream and dance.





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