Really Really Me
Today, tomorrow, we chase our dreams,
the grass is always greener,
on the other side, or so it seems.
There never seems to be enough time,
to get things done.
Always rushing, here, there, on the run.
Then one day, in the mirror we look,
what do we see?
Who is this person, staring back,
can this, really, really, be me?
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