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to the children it all seems so close and easy
but my childhood was a forced escape from life
and violence and hatred were ghosts
that came to my bed to frighten my nights
and talking to the walls i soothed my memories
until one day i would forget them all
but the ghosts of my past and all my enemies
at the feet of my bed still make me fall
though i gave them love
how many times i’d seen myself on the floor
with my pillow feather bleeding and torn
still everytime i stood i knew some more
rising up i got stronger than who never falls
than who never falls
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