POOR ME

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ABSTRACT POEMS



               Poor me.

        And, it's through.

        What am I going to do?

   Wednesdays, Saturdays, and Sundays were fun.

    Now, they are done.

    I met a new friend.  Now it did end.

      I did things that were lies.

    Now, I am the one who cries.

      They were not the truth.

     Goodbye Ruth.

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