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This is not a poem,
I really wish I could write one again.
This a sad echo,
from someone who is already dead.

I used to be better,
when that part of me was alive.
She was the one that understood my soul,
she transformed my tears in art.

But I killed her, I killed me,
and now I can't see through my tears
I'm drowning, but I can't scream.
  I'm speechless.

I forgot how to write poetry
blah blah blah blah blah blah

— The End —