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We may say libraries are disappearingBut they will always be with usThey have been regineeringUsing them is a must
Wandering amongst the maze of shelves, I hear their whispers of stories yearning to be heard from a multicolored sea,
Allow me to speak of the marks you have made, of this veritable letter of inner turmoil It begins with small marks, little notes, akin to half-thoughts you have yet to verify
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