A pessimistic idea of a loveless life; a fraction of love, a maker of laughs, a simple ignorance, a broken voice; living in stints of wind, reaching for mistakes when none have been made.
It is all an idea, a mighty discussion of fragility, a torn record of history.
There are those left in the dark corners untouched by time, learning to start again, being built from the ground.
Patience is required for as long as I live. From waiting in line to waiting to die, we are all in line to reach the end, all traveling towards uncertainty.
One Way Life 
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