Often it seems as a decade just passed a few moments back
But sometimes it seems more than a decade to pass just a few moments
How often do we see our real image in the mirror instead of the one that we have put on
When a mirror is but a reflection of our pasts which we have always concealed
There was once a time, but now tears, pain or anguish can never seem to console
It doesn’t matter now. Life, Feelings, Morality have been buried long ago
It would just tick on till the light dies and the wetness dries
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