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Poetry
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| Receptacle | |
| By Matthiasrising | ||||||
| 16 November 2007 | ||||||
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What mean this? All this knowledge Piles inside of me, Like apples from the tree. Throw me out Like garbage used and rank. This fruit is corrosive, But I’m fully addicted. Knowledge is power; Power is energy in time; Time is an illusion, Therefore I am nothing. Divide by me to find infinity Infinity is the one.
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