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If I could trace the many scars
Etched on my heart like landmarks,
I would tally up half the stars
Which punch the skies with their tiny spark.
If I could hold the stream of tears
In the cup f my hands thro the years,
I would scoop the ocean floor bare
And run it with streams of despair.
If I could relive the memory
Playing on my mind’s walls like a movie,
I would shut down the film industry
And write a couple hundred DVDs.