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May 2017
The birds are singing
All is calm.
The wind doesn't even blow.
Everyone is still asleep.

For them, I weep.
A tear, for everyone of them.

For I, cannot judge them
with a night like tonight.

It was cold
and it was grey.

Just like the ground you hit your head on.
Cayce McQuillan
Written by
Cayce McQuillan  20/F/Chicago
(20/F/Chicago)   
209
 
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