Leaving Oz

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A sip from the glass. A thousand melodies enter. Consuming the sounds. Proclamations of dreams. When the blues mix with the yellows. The aftertaste of hope. That shall never be mistaken for faith. Our nation’s mistletoe. Our nations’s facade. The past that never existed. Until life gets too easy again. Until one loses sight of their footing. Be filled with joy. Make a toast. A toast to life. And as you take your sip. Swallow your dreams.

Happy New Year.


-Verdure


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