I am 17 and I want to be a poet

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I Never Used To Cry. Death Would Come And My Eyes Would Remain Dry. I Dont Quite Know What Did It. I

i never used to cry. death would come and my eyes would remain dry. i dont quite know what did it. i dont know how you brought it back. how was i, one familiar with droughts, was burdened with plentiful floods? what sin could i have been atoning for? i used to pray for the rain, but now, i cannot help but drown

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