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Monday, June 13, 2005


   poems
She may not talk,
She may not cry,
But I know,
She tries and tries.
She feels lonely,
And not so glad,
She’s just a small part,
In a world so bad.
In her own world,
She cries out in pain,
Afraid of the unknown,
For she is already slain.
As it seems,
Nobody did care,
But with the exception of one,
He was always there.
But now she’s gone,
And no longer can he help her,
Now hes so sad,
And wishes for the way things were.
The way things back then,
Once were all too kind,
Now, today he sees,
Everyone in some sort of bind.
So, I definitely have one wish,
A wish that would mean so much to me,
As I said before, I’ll say it again,
I wish for the way – the way things used to be.

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