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I'm obsessed with the past.
It's like seeing through the eyes of a body long dead.
Where life once danced, there is an empty room.
The party is over, the people are gone, but I'm still watching.
Like a photo, nothing moves, and nothing changes.
It all begins to rot, and cease to be, like a memory, so warped that you think you might have dreamed it.
That's how I see the world,
through the rear view mirror.
- by jakehurley234 |
- Poetry And Lyrics
- | Submitted on 11/22/2010 |
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- Title: Through the Rear View
- Artist: jakehurley234
- Description: poetry flows out when it wants. when you decide you want to write a poem, you'll end up with a little rhyme about love or sadness. If yoy let it flow when it wants to, you'll end up with your true feelings.
- Date: 11/22/2010
- Tags: through rear view
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