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I look up at the sun and see it cry its bright yellow tears. Wondering if there will be one and for me to lie in its fright of mellow years. The tears have fallen and all, but one. The years have crawlen and to stand up from its fall it would be done. Life comes to a new when the light is shined on Earth. Strife shows to be true then the might is blind from birth. Death comes to an end as life slips through my grasp. Breath in my lungs stops from a bend as a knife slits it, it is my last.
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