aspiring wordsmith
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They expose us;
our words
our tone reveals
our true intentions
the structure represents
our sincerity
our face gives up
the unspoken
and it flies
like tiny wisps of our soul
As if the past could come alive
Watching from a distance
Replaying the memories I once enjoyed
If time was a friend
I would turn him back again
To retell the past I once had lived
