Let it come out,
hiding never will do anyone a favor,
only making the truth hurt more,
when it comes,
having the lies weigh down on those shoulders,
and become just as hollow and brittle,
behaving lost its meaning on a higher source,
again covered in faults hopelessness smiles,
let listen to better,
crashing down,
rusted chain of a clear teal gem glass chandelier,
while in distance a sweet band of young hearts,
unknowing of how the world plays its own tune,
while happy whistler goes on,
so light,
so breathless that it dries the lips,
leaving only an echo music lone note play on,
in the wind,
passing down from person to person,
losing meaning,
but never reason.



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