Between The Printed Lines
I sit here all by myself With a book held in my hands Silently turning pageafter page Losing myself to its many tales My ink-stained fingers Searching for words undiscovered Looking for some hidden message Between the printed lines Searching for the answers To questions unasked And just longing for truth In a world of fantasy
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weaver
I was pieced together with five parts compassion, three parts empathy, three parts hard work, and two parts self-preservation; but then they decided that thirteen parts was bad luck and cut my regard for preservation down to one. It is...
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