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It should speak,
Passionate whispers of desire
Trembling shouts of abuse
To live, to feel, but it cannot
Trapped in a square frame.
Painted with a hoax
It should create,
Soothing dreams of silk sheets
Breathtaking compositions
To aspire, to love, but how
Suspended in time.
Break, you are not a cover
You are life.
Running, searching, and aspiring
Towards individulaity,
It will hide
Until a number no longer dictates.
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