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Sep 21
Men, oh the men
They burnt my version of whispering woods
Now all I can see is grey
And all I can smell is the smoke
I have ashes over my cactuses
My uncle is awake
And he is crying
Because he knows it won't go back
To how it was even if it grows again
And I'm crying
Because I know it's true.
Written by
Anna  F/Brazil
(F/Brazil)   
73
 
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