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Woobie

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Ask for a cause, fate weaves through.


The fibers are not always fair, but life’s linens are usually soiled on this side of the street.


Irony and perspective tightly grip.


Hand-in-hand devilishly pointing out how lucky I am to breath this air, move this hand, know these words.


To possess the vision required to observe things I am so deeply moved by.


Amazing movements mesmerize me.


I am truly captivated, lost in reflection.


Covered in hypocrisy, hidden.


But how can you walk the path of the righteous?


There are lies told to the virtuous.


Wait, what?


Icons sprout for loss of direction.


Lies and truths are always subject to delays and changes.


Only at a moments notice.


Slippery? I have been told about the slope.


On the whims of who’s intentions should always be called into question.


Your life, their reasons, their hands.


Doesn’t that make you feel better?

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