Past ghosts

You ask me what the mat­ter is
i mut­ter noth­ing but you
say you can tell
because you see sad­ness in my face

it’s noth­ing, it’s
noth­ing, noth­ing,
i say…
it’s just that i
see the ghosts of your past
thru the mir­ror of my eyes
and i won­der if some­day
i’ll be the same.

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