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Rated: E · Poetry · Other · #1359366
Eventually, I was my own cynic.
The original immersion in this glorious sadness is only for herself,
Because she is the only human who has ever felt
And she swims alone.
Its a dramatism inherent in her messy heart
A passion for performance? Can it be both?
How much of this suffocating dance is for applause
And a showering of roses?
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