Where are the memories of my youth,
those that provided me with future vision,
those that encouraged my innocence,
prolonging the truth for as long as it could be?
Who stole my life and gave me empty years
with futile dreams of non-assimilation,
requesting future delivery of a perforated soul?
When did I stop listening to the creative mind
and start bargaining with an insubordinate imagination?
Why did I dye the lie to fit the casual circumstances?
12Aug13
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