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Literature Text
There they go walking by,
The breeze is warm and sun shining,
Birds chirping and the wind chimes chiming.
There’s something about her I don’t know why.
People either get real intimidated,
Or they enjoy her company no in between.
Eitherway its like shes been syndicated,
As it's always quite the street scene.
Mirror mirror standing tall,
What is it that you reflect onto me?
I thought it was locked in a vault.
Though here you are and can see.
You already answered yourself,
That’s personal growth for recognizing it.
Emotions, behaviors and inner traits of oneself,
A tool for self awareness and empathy that can exist.
Mirror mirror standing tall,
What is it that you reflect onto me?
I thought it was locked in a vault.
Though here you are and can see.
Literature
Mirror of Our Memories
Keep me close to the mirror,
where you look at yourself.
Tell me what you see
so I could compare it to you.
And say one more time:
I like you better mine.
Where did you hide
the you I once knew?
The one who brought me with you?
Now I have to break the mirror
the memory of that you.
I have to break the mirror,
crush it into million pieces.
Then I would have too many of you
for me to love any longer.
Keep me close to you once more,
in front of the mirror
where you look at yourself,
before it crushes into pieces.
Millions of empty pieces
on the floor,
reminding the time they were our reflection.
Literature
Break Apart Your Voice
Break apart your voice
to find out what's inside.
See the way you think things
and where your troubles hide
Break apart your voice
and what beneath, lies.
Will you find gold and treasure?
Or find the source of your flies?
Break apart your voice
then sing a different song.
One of your own that you
have known, all along.
Break apart your voice.
Find out who you are.
Don't take yourself for granted.
It will not scar
Literature
Just The Memory Stays Around
In the springtime, they speak in a whisper,
Then the summer wind makes us all hear their sound,
In the autumn sun, we watch how proudly they stand,
As they drop their voices to the ground.
And when the winter comes,
Just the memory stays around.
In the springtime, they start to show their colors,
Then the summer sun leaves no doubt that they're around,
On the autumn nights, we hear how softly they sigh,
As they send their bannеrs to the ground.
And when the wintеr comes,
Just the memory stays around.
And when the winter comes,
Just the memory stays around.
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