What is a city, but a distraction? A quick interaction between millions of faces, but a only a fraction will be the friends we have attraction, like magnets among tin, the connection is slim; the odds are grim, we touch bases not as a friend; but a number in a grid...
I rid myself of numbers, and now I am left with only family, and nothing is as we planned it to be.
We soon see, that even a few of you and me; is friction and discord, but without each other disconnection is our only story, and how many stories can one man tell of hermatage in a cell; and to who will he recite his deeds but to a wall, and his reflection in a well.
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