Living on the deck waiting to see the wondrous tomorrows.
It's not that it's like this but somehow, someway it seems like that..
The little sillies of tales builts in that little patch that's sewn on
that favorite outfit of yours..You close..breathe and pretend nothing ever
happened..It's just like the life of the enchanted..only this villain..
lives inside of you..the little heart that beats as long as you live...
You can't live without it..yet you can't live with it..It's like that itch
you can't get rid of it..You thought sewing that piece of cloth onto the torn
patch would take it all away..mend that torn up jeans, but it did..only for awhile..why would a torn patch mean so much..? Only because nothing is ever
replaceable. That little patch is just temporary..it's just a matter of embracing
it while it's there..and keeping the memories of yesterdays in a little box.
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