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Not at my beck(sport from Stefan George)
Only one to shed fear, Only one to grasp hope, A ripple for a smile, A minute to cope, Seconds to forget, Hours to remember, To bury the deepest of depression, To reveal ones true expression,
I drift through an endless space, reacquainting myself again  With the parallel black lines Stacked on top of each other with infallible precision In a backdrop of a cream filling, rich as buttercream topping on a cake
Working diligently... Alone... (humming loudly to myself) POUNDING LOUDLY AT THE PIANO! I leave my solitude for a moment to get some water. (All the while, symphonies compose themselves in my head,
I am imperturbable and versatile I wonder about dramatic compositions on the succinct sheet of life I hear nothing surround me except my malleable mind urging me to play the keys of time correctly
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