Remnant
There is so much we miss
In our Los Angeles lives
So much we march right over
In our race to keep pace with the lies
That frantic is fruitful
and plastic is beautiful
that power is the ultimate prize
We are spinning so fast
We forget we are searching
For something yet unfound
That will heal the hurting
It seems we've been looking
In the opposite direction
Facing outward instead of inward
Where there still exits
In fractures and splints
A remnant of forgotten perfection
Respond
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