there are things I wished to tell you
real things
strange things
things I never had the chance to say
about my deepest wounds
or of my greatest dreams
slowly they are unfolding
the things i wished to tell you
you will hear them without my words
they are finding their way
through creative force
my wounds
they are being sung by the Collective choir
and danced by the flowering cherry blossoms
my dreams
they are the melodies i cannot hear
and my legacies not yet written
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