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Living Under
I play with my hair
Seeing no other use for it…
My senses become senseless
Since my life does not depend on them…
My body swallowed by objects
Does not live in love…
But the ones around me,
Do not seem to care.
They seem content.
If only they knew…
A world where all is free.
All are free.
Where the body can become
The mind can evolve
And not conform.
Where the law
Is not studied,
But felt.
For we cannot understand
What we do not feel.
poem
by
Erica Borges
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