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Let the Fire Die
Pouring rain pummels on the roofas an unknown god's anger should.Her sweet lips do beauty unto herself,yet the lips have yet to speak a word.She might never grow up, who ...
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To Dream
Oh my, this must be one of the sappiest poems I've ever written, and I'm sort of ashamed of it. *hides* However, I do want to know whether it is ...