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Words



It keeps playing in my head
The words that he said
Like a tape recorder past its age
The voice is dying but doesn't fade

These words make sentences
And those sentences made stories
At the time when everything made sense
I don't know why I let go of the ink and the pen

But words are everything I have
I live, breathe and see through them
But words make stories
Stories that don't have an end

My head wrote tales in clauses
The heart fluttered in a rhyme scheme
Both fated to degenerate
In each other's stories

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Content by Trine