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Nailed
Is it not
a fractured memory
of a beautiful illusion
of when we were once Free
that haunts the thoughts
that we try to speak
to our broken imotions
that cry at the feet
of our empathy
that we nailed
to the Cross
of what could have been
a fractured memory
of a beautiful illusion
of when we were once Free
that haunts the thoughts
that we try to speak
to our broken imotions
that cry at the feet
of our empathy
that we nailed
to the Cross
of what could have been
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