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Rated: E · Other · Other · #1772478
When I cry myself to sleep...
The nights that I cry myself to sleep, I think of memory:
You, Can't. Wake. Up.
But I can. And all I must do is take your hand.
You make me able to carry on, and fight
my way into the dawn.
But, when the first sun rises,
I find you gone.
© Copyright 2011 Maddie* Voigt (ilovejason at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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