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Jun 2015
Every night it seems,
Like I cry myself to sleep.
As though I don't belong,
I barely make a peep.

Something inside is telling me,
You should end it all.
That is when I take the rope,
And run straight down the hall.

I run right out the door,
Straight to the big oak tree.
Tie the rope, then climb to the top,
Then that is the end of me.
Racheal McKnight
Written by
Racheal McKnight
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