On my travels I’ve met many people, millionaires and bankrupts, junkies and dealers, the confusingly normal and the awe inspiringly odd. And all along, the one resounding trait, the one uniting human factor amongst them all? They didn’t write bloody poetry…

We’re not the icebergs we want to be
We’re cliffs in denial
Seen by all but ourselves
Ready to break
And only as hard as we are fragile

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