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Hidden Insight
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Love 9/10/01
I miss him deafly. I search him out like a child in the dark. Always grasping for a concept so out of reach. His eyes. The window to an angel’s soul, they don’t connect. They never do. Never will. Just a broken hope, tattered, torn. Like the glass of a million, shattered, strewn across the ground for all the world to walk upon.
