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A gift we all know we get once, more precise than gold and more unique,
Something we neglect and forget till its to late,
One chance, one eating heart to have, one soul and mind,
We each see it differently, but still we all see, we all hear and feel,
Some see no point, others see the end, and fewer see the joy and love,
Few of us hear our own voices, and fewer still speak out,
Numbers are growing with voices ignoring SOS,
Only ending in questions without answers and choke white lines,
But nothing ever is done, papers lost or locked away, nothing ever solved,
Some listen but simply out numbered,
Once green and blue the world was, but now sadly its sickly gray with boredom,
Tides of red, without a single tear to be shed,
SOS used to mean please help me, but now what does it mean,
Once a sign, a last cry for help,
Now it means nothing, a cry now only a tear, nothing any more significant,
An SOS for help now charges the victim, their reason doesn’t count,
Now hope losses even faster than before, now death and darkness rampage on,
We where al once babies, once we learned to walk we where fine,
But some needed a little more help, and others never received it,
A life is only ever given to each of us once, a single chance, a moment in time,
A few shine just enough, but most fall just short,
Few shine brightly and even more never shine at all, shadows and ghosts,
We will all cry out for help at least once,
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