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In life there are moments where it can bring you in the need to scream your pain existence. The fire in you the passion that generates you gets tested The rug gets pulled from underneath and all you have left is yourself.
Connected We are many but we are one We are all different but all the same , We all want different things but we all have the same needs. We all connect by bone and blood .
Parabolic functions: line graphs and charts. Theories become more than pictures and art. Concepts leave the two dimensional lane, Lines transcend their mathematical plain.   
White sheets lay an adventure through my brainCross minded, open sighted lines puncturing while my existence is indicatedWe are the center of our own worldown universeown fight.
It seems I always knew the earth was round. From my childhood it was preached in learning. The fact always struck me as perfect, And wonderfully so.
What a world we live in Where beauty is confused with worth Painted masks perceive perfection Without uttering a single syllable.   What a world we live in Where anger burns and scars the heart
I’m breathing But am I living? Do I wake up each morning ready for the unpredictable opportunities of the day? When a new door opens, do I step through?
I swear if you ever want things to change, then your gunna have to look inside you beyond visual range. Go to a place where you could just think maybe the beach, listen to the waves crashing onto the shore can u hear it preach?
  Wolves grace along      in packs, the      beauty of their      fur ruffle in      the wind, snow,      and sun rays.  All so bright,      the wolf touches
What were they like When they fell down, when they withered,
Facing the dedication plaque of The East Coast Memorial in Battery Park,sat a navy spiral bound with a worn post-it note upon the cover.Head slightly tilted, I scoff at the carelessness of some kids.
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