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Open Eyes

In the dead of the night the spirit stands and stares Watching, watching a boy make a fool of himself His pointless yells fills the brisk night air Then he runs and then it begins The thrashing and slashing fills the once still air Torn to pieces he struggles to live The boy filled with anger is now filled with loneliness The dying boy strokes the pure white fur that opened his eyes of lies to the truth of the world

Copyright © | Year Posted 2015




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Date: 1/26/2015 10:59:00 PM
Brilliantly stated. Sometimes we are slashed and dashed to pieces, with open eyes.
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Book: Reflection on the Important Things