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Searching
August 23, 2011
It is not what I can see but what I cannot see,
As I rush through the remainders of what used to be,
A home, a place of love and family,
But all left is a pile of mud and debris.
Ever minute I get more frustrated,
Losing self belief that I can relieve their pain.
But how can I know where to start?
When every second is closer to the last beat of their heart.
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