I told you didn't I that I was better than you made me out to be
Lika a bee on spring.
It gets to me to see you happy,
Feels almost unrealistic,
Maybe my perspective shouldn't change,
Afterall we're just strangers of a photograph apart,
Something captured but unnecessarily till the end,
What I do believe in,
And what I do pretend to,
Seems almost alike when juxtaposed,
I shouldn't be defining this,
Oh man,
What's taking you so long . . .
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