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Dear Younger Me,   If I could go back and change things I might, to undo the wrongs and make them right. But that's the thing, the very falslihood I used to believe,
When missing I scurry, when crying I worry.   The only thing I desire, something worth more than an empire. The one and only one who gave birth to me.
I am one
"Okay, one more time!
The voice clawing through my vocal chords and dropping from my lips is so cracked and battered it’s unrecognizable
If Time passes like the wind is it really that Important? If people die every day do their lives even mean a thing? Why are we even here if we will just pass away someday? Why are we existing
Please tell me that we haven't become Mindless conformities made to match; to blend in, to mask who we really are.   Why do we follow so closely this pattern of mediocrity?
I am lost. I am lost in the Spaces between words Rather than words themselves My voice too meek for anyone to hear Or understand.   I am lost underneath The people that engulf me
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