You can't tell . the messengers, They come . with many faces, They come . in many guises, They'll come . disguised as a message. beetle sleek and midnight quiet, They'll sneak . up on you . but they won't tell you . any messages, They don't carry . any message, They wear . mirrored moonbeams . shells softened by age, They'll show you . the message inside you, You've carried that message's morning blue . close but it's meant for another
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