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| >> Static Item >> Poetry >> Emotional >> ID #957468 |
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I am the girl
who calls your name, wanting your life for mine is vain. I am the girl with the cold, crooked fingers, fearing more misery as my soul lingers. I am the girl with a heart cloaked with thorns, pricking anyone who comes close, thinking I will get torn. I am the girl with the most heart-warming friends, picking me up so I could be joyful again.
© Copyright 2005 Safaya-zanta (UN: brownest_eyz at Writing.Com).
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