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Cliche's Mourning
Silence, as the hope fills the air.
From within, your chest begins to beat
My head rests, I tell you its my first
Hopefully never my last
In thinking, my mind turns to you.
Should I? I never got mommies wings...
Through the nest, I had a hard landing.
Ive never flew...
Until I met you
You take my hand once
Never to let go.
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