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To See

The Stories In Between

Cradled in a nest of thorns

Swaddled in your apathy

My cries go silent

Like a still-born dream

Illuminated by nothing more

Than the drip of forgotten

Promises, rippling through

Puddles of complacency

Waiting for what

Never comes, till the time

Of reckoning, reveals the decay

Beneath the smothering layers

Forbidden, hidden from eyes

Though open, not yet ready

To see

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