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Expect some open hand, some comfort. But that gesture shatters dream. Love not me. But give looks of disbelief, everything is going to be just fine. No open hand. I am despised. Pity corresponds me and I exploit it. Why, you are special, unique. No, I\'m poor, miserable and weak. Look at my eyes and you\'ll see.

Gone to disrepair, to no good use. Manipulated and trashed. Caged like canary birds too sad to come out. Is my spirit trapped by mindsets and stubborn idealisms. Observant of shortcomings and regretful of thoughts, forgotten. Will kill to find peace and surround my walls with glow-in-the-dark stars. Most unkind letdowns still sigh from tired lungs. Thieves, someone took my sadness away. Maybe they\'ll come back with repentant frowns. But I dream.

Drink your cup and think \"companion.\" I don\'t share; I toast. I walk through some valley. No echo. Feel melancholy tipsy and ponder you. I am weak, want to be strong. God would help. But I balk too much. But hear me out, I can spread wings to sweep me off. I can speak charm without talking magic. I am but human.

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The following comments are for "Yearning You"
by tkal317

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