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Sand at my feet, pocket full of brocken shells, each wave a rythm to a different beat; This is what life could be. The sand the wave the sea. How far is my reach, from here on the beach?
It was so easy to focus on the present. As a child, I was hopeful in my future and found life to be pleasant. I loved making up games and visiting my family during my long summer break.
"It was a pleasure to burn." Those were the words that I begged for my soul For my heart My bones My lips to utter truly, Truly. That fire, Was killed by a dying mother,