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As
I walk along a hall, I
look around at the wall, And
on its surface I see, Pictures
of the past of me. A
documentary following my life, Through
happiness and strife, Then
it comes to a sudden end, Where
the hallways does bend, And
round the bend is a door, Surrounded
by many more. All
are locked shut, And
out of stone are cut, There
is no way but to find a key, To
open the door of WHAT IS TO BE. I
know where to search, So
back do I lurch, To
the pictures of my past, And
search till at last, I
find what I need, Just
one tiny seed, A
small grain of hope, That
will allow me to cope, Then
I open the door and see, What
is meant to be: YOU.
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