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we were made warriors we wear our hearts on our sleeve but made of steal no pain must we feel and look beyond all thats real we swallow are pain and lick the dust
i know how your soul was tied with hers and how you cryed her tears and how you left here with just a promise these was never written so the story goes
These were my favorite lines. It's all very interesting to me but I'm trying to fiure out... Who are you talking (writing) to?
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The capacity for passion is both cruel and divine. George Sand - 1834
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