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Ghost
Sticky hands atop our sundial.
Gripping for control,
only to be defiled.
They didn't love me,
they just wanted money.
Gardens flowing with cellophane,
to assure me I've gone insane.
Losing myself in the moment,
to transcend the pain.
Forest's paved with cement,
only for personal gain.
Loser's never lose,
no battle can be won.
So here's to giving up,
and staring until blindness,
waiting for the sun.
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