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The Bear    You keep on poking the bear . True .... the bear isn’t as badass as she thinks. Yeah ... but .... she’s got a mean bite .
 I hear the music play: A loud chorus, a strong voice. Funnily enough, I am the chorus;But I am the strong voice too?
i awake, ready to enter again into this poem called life. to filter the moments,  the quivering of water’s meniscus in a plastic bottle, how each person holds his pen differently,
When I hear the pitter-patter on the roof after a long sunny day, I think. I think about what it must be like to be a raindrop, or even just a molecule of water. To be able to go anywhere, or would
What if the mansion which I abide mirrors me by more than just it's contents?  
- Silence pours over my ear drums Talk to me? no - not tonight - for I am in a curious state of being. I'm feeling my blood rush through me It's swirling and dancing in my viens 
As I sit, I wonder. About life. About love and hate and the world. And love and hate in the world. We have hugs and smiles. Why must they be lifted by killing and sneers?
We all live On a clock For we live through time And time is told  By a clock So look our lives And everday is less then a seond Every hour less then a year Our lives compared 
Have you ever envisioned Karmaas an object or a thing?Is Karma a force?Is Karma a centrifugal ring?Or perhaps Karma is a person;a woman or a man.Unfortunately, I cannot tell;No one can.
Nothing compares to a crystal fleck of truth a glimpse of the wandering soul a relic of the misunderstood a moiety of a single defined thought a dream dreamt by sorrow
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