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In the end
The trees bend in the wrong way,
birds fly down,
and around the shawlow cool pools of the forest,
animals do not drink.
Lips are no longer red,
and eyes no longer look,
the sun never comes out,
the snow doesn't fall.
We are all grey and round,
and ignorant.
we read every other line,
and we read nothing.
Blank is the look on our face,
passion is solid,
carefree days no more,
and the moon is broken.
in the end.
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