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I will never know all the could have beens, should have beens, might have beens, and maybes. I will never understand all the possibly, maybes. I only know what is. I only know myself, and the creature within. I only know the divine creation that I am, that I have, and will become. Some day, I will live up to all these potentials, fulfill all these desires, and I will sing to the stars. I will sing to the stars and the moon, and with them I will dance, with them I will weep, with them I will turn in the celestial pattern, moving to the divine, cosmic rhythm. I am all and nothing, so little and so much more. Yet in all things, I am confined only by limitations of my own making, faults that are of my own creation. I am whole and able. I am strong and deadly. I am alive and breathing. I am silent and waking. I am hopeful and singing. Yet I will never know, what it is you see, what it is the world has seen, that I do not. I will never understand who it is the world has seen in my eyes, because it is not who I see. It is not what I know.

All that's in my mind, is those words we never say but always hear falling between the cracks.

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The following comments are for "It is not what I know"
by TheSocietyInc

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