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Imagine a world of 8.19 billion souls—
Cities that breathe, and highways that roll.
Laughter echoing down every street,
So many faces you’ll never meet.
Yet somehow, in the endless crowd,
You sit in silence, not too loud.
Eyes that pass but never stay,
Words like smoke, then drift away.
A paradox, so vast, so near—
The world is full, but none are here.
And in that hum of life and sound,
You feel the weight of not being found. 0 reply
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