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There Are Others

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There are others
scattered throughout the world
like spilled seeds
others like me.

Their minds
content to wander
When the wind blows
a stirring inside
Their tools of expression
(twins of my own pen)
sing of emotions
voices
colors

We search for the answer
to a question we can't find the words for
(the only existing thing that is so)
Bound together
though we've never met.




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