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|A second glass miracle (BG)
When you were small, you knew all that knew,
And the dogs didn't take your trace.
Now you're open, you cast aside your shield,
You don't remember who is right and who is blind.
You hung up targets on your chest,
It's worth only to strain bow-string;
You're a walking target,
You're sure that your way is correct.
But for those who don't sleep, don't need your garden,
In it you know there are no flowers, no stones.
And even your god to nobody not helped,
There are others, brighter and stronger;
And so you're in a void,
Like on old forgotten canvas:
Not in the beginning not in the center,
And even not in the very tail.