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Rated: E · Poetry · Other · #1176387
What we truly feel...but we often say the opposite...
“What’s wrong?” You ask,
I turn, eyes downcast.
“Nothing.”
Always the reply
I know that you’ll cry—
What’s wrong is you.

Can’t find the words
To tell you how it hurts.
It’s always the same
Nothing.
Nothing from me because
What’s wrong is you.
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