You may, we may, see us as broken. But, I see the gold mend the crack in between, when tears fall off your cheek.The broken pieces of your heart, glued with silver.The heart they ripped off, patched with gold-strings. And these bullet holes they caused, band-aided with kryptonite.The life might rub your face off, but you made you self shines.But do not ever see your...
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