Alexander

Someone left in march. The first one was in august 

16 and a half years ago. 

Two sides of one coin. 

Different ideas of the same dream.

I guess no one wins in the end. 

We stay and keep asking the same questions, 

Knowing that not a single person has an answer worth noting. 

Somewhere in the west village she saw my apartment, two lamps that never really found a home. 

Now they’re up there somewhere fighting about some nonsense that never really mattered anyway. 

  At least they’re talking.  

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