Is not around to hear,
All the things from deep within your heart,
That you'd like to bear,
That you're not sure they would hear,
For the truth that lies within,
Because the possibilities you're talking about,
Are a dangerous admission,
That may be embraced or shunned, it doesn't matter,
Because a hole will still be bored,
Through the thin, thin fabric of representations,
In which is our abode?
And is it alright,
To say nothing at all,
When holes are already bored within your soul,
And they won't stop until the truth's let fall?
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