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Seen it all. Lived it all.

I wish I had the gift of a camera lense to capture the long gazes and furtive glances I witnessed through the time I've stood here... the surprised, the interested, the anticipating, the indifferent, the disgusted, the excited, the sad, the helpless, the angry, the clueless, the cynical, the dreamy, the hopeful.

True, I've seen them all, time and time again. I am an old wall, in an old quarter, in an old city. Political propaganda, obituaries, notices of celebrations, ads for recitals, bazaars, exhibitions, and plays, store openings, sale announcements, job postings, strike announcements, bright graffiti, cries of protest, screams of revolt, expressions of patriotism.

True, I've lived and breathed them all, time and time again. The hands of man dress me and those of time undress me.

True, most think of me as an inanimate object, but my days tell the story of a life well lived. If I had the gift of a camera lense and could unfold its reel, you'll go from smile to frown time and time again, while your eyes will tear my dear. And you'll relive your life in the span of a reel... cause my story is yours my dear.

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