what do i do so late in the night...
i see my future from the windows of my past...
why is the darkness in us so bright...
just as i know my sorrow will,forever last...
in the pages of the old diary the letters have faded...
but i remember when i wrote them the days were delight...
in the book of the sketches the faces are shaded...
cant figure what colors are they...maybe they are just black and white...
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