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Apr 2013
I sit at home alone.
I wait for my mother.
I long for my brother.
I cry for my father.
Silently.
But still I sit.
Drowning out life.
Yearning for eye contact.
It's a very very dangerous thing.
But oh, how lovely it becomes. So, so lovely.
Lo
Written by
Lo  MURICA
(MURICA)   
388
   --- and heather
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