White.

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63
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I'm tired of looking for happiness

Of plucking white flowers

Where I only find sacks of meat

Immobile

I'm alone here looking for affection.

I'm tired of looking for purity

Where there is not

With this fake smile

That doesn't fool even a child

And this young body

Can't find unconditional love

The memory is so sad

It's there somewhere

Among your ashes.

White. | Ecency