There is a child in me,
she hides way down beneath,
the adult in me.
She saw awful things,
she felt many painful things,
and heard many harsh things.
The adult in me,
always attempts to protect her,
but there are times I fail.
That is when,
the adult in me,
cries for the child,
that I once was.
My tears remember,
the pangs of distress,
for...
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