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Stuck
Dreams seem like reality.
Reality is so unreal.
I'm lost, but still searching.
What is this I feel?
I seek what isn't there,
and I spit on what I've got.
The grass is always greener,
on the side that you're not.
I promise that I'll go.
You can't keep me caged.
These bars torture me so.
I can't contain my rage.
Freedom...
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