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Busy Memories
In the eyes of your nights,
My every dream comes alive.
The quill gets up from sleep,
And starts to count the words.
No time for a nap,
Only passions are filled with whole schedules.
So busy, yet the mind works ;
Only for your memories.
Not so perfect my heart is,
It's broken and remade for thousands.
But it beats at your every breath,
And stops at your...