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I do not conceal what I seek.

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How did they find us? How were they so prepared? What could have tipped them off? Suspicions grow… there is only one thing this could possibly mean… there is a spy among us…

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Time can go so fast, too fast.

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The bubbles of joy make life beautiful blown by a child in ecstasy to fill life with moments of bliss.

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A two part Haiku about a goldfish.

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Poem about the lost world of Atlantis.

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I’d be fine living in my own bubble, if it wasn’t for you.

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Amusing poem about a boy who blows a bigger and bigger bubble.

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A poem about awakening after a night of very lucid dreaming.

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I was given a quoted prompt on the shortness of anything living…

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