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Perhaps I was determined not to open the letter.
It was a small paragraph,
an explanation for the money in the envelope.
I'm trapped inside their lines:
'cause we miss you.
This is money and all we can do.
'Cause we miss you…
this is all we can do for you.
They cut any creative care,
under their gray colored skies.
I just need to understand, to stay
and waste what heaven knows.
Empty lines with no sense,
when it turns, it now depends.
I will get it one day, close to you.
