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Lost: A Word with Multitudinous Interpretations
Once went to a green, dark forest
This place may be restless
Walk here, walk there, and had a rest
But still in wilderness
It’s frustrating things are not in place
Whether big or small price
Just like a flower vase
Which surrounds with butterflies
It’s sorrowful life had past
We all will walk this path
We all lived here present and past
But Heaven is last path
Some contests may defeat
That’s what people dislike
They’ll be sad but will eat
And continue what they like
Copyright ©
Cheska Blas
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