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Your Eyes
Your eyes aren't like stars from far away lands;
They don't compare to water when it glistens on the sands.
They're cold and harsh and cut like glass,
And give me a chill that I struggle to pass.
I cannot stare, for they are a sin;
I don't want to risk being sucked in.
Your eyes are like paintings, laced with pain.
Braided with lies you've seen over again.
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