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My life is in pieces,
shattered like glass.
Time flies by,
or suddenly stops.

The wilted rose,
that sits on the corner.
Resembles my heart,
slowly fading way.

What is love?
nothing seems to exist.
Love isn't real.
and "Love" will die.

No one notices
when I'm depressed.
no one cares
how I feel.

You think You know me,
but you really don't.
I might hurt myself sometimes,
but you don't need to care.