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New beginnings.
New trepidations.
Old inclinations.
Old wounds.
Same aura.
Same habitual soul.
Same promises.
Same rhymes.
Him: Hello, the One
Who asks for Too
Much.
Me: Goodbye.
What's best for me
is best for ye.
Hello to modified dreams,
dashed and disappeared.
When will the horribly wretched
karma end?
How many lifetimes
will we try again?
How many times til I wake up
from Groundhog Day
without bruises?
If only knowledge made me wise,
I would have no one to blame.
What should I change?
I don't want it all to be the same.
I don't want our faults to define us.
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