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Next Stop: Lost Individuality
I see sheep frolicking through the fields of lost individuality,
I often stop to question such a common tragedy,
The ultimate death and loss of selves, an ultimate fatality.
The odd choice to follow and make the world bland
Another unique room with another door slammed
and a once gem, that is now turned to sand
and the sun wanted to owe it specifically one,
A different shade of color that's equally beautiful, but they don't see it in their own eyes
From now on, they call themselves none.
