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Writer's pictureFred

Going Inside

one day, in the near future, I won't be able to hear anymore.


that will be a sad day.


but at one point I did hear.


and I used that sense up.


every.


single.


drop.


as I wait for that final fateful day, I will remember the sadness.


the sadness of knowing what's coming.


as the muffled sounds disintegrate.


into fading indiscernible echoes.


my hands press harder upon the speakers.


for the lasting vibrations to imprint upon my memory.




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