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This is not a poem

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Fired up and open

We take every moment as a token

Awake but not awoken

Our lives are destiny, and it gets the best of me

Watching,waiting for a sign or omen 

Keeping the faith but letting the faith keep us

Bones weak, and we are alive,

but just enough to secure our pride

We are here and feel content inside

This is not a poem, its a foward motion

Walking with our heads high with no emotion

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