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| Going in the morning. 
 It was raining.
 
 The water was splashing.
 
 Drops were flying.
 
 Saving my jeans,
 
 I was thinking,
 
 "What I am trying?
 
 To save...
 
 To save..."
 
 
 I started working.
 
 I worked until I cut my hand,
 
 And the blood was flowing.
 
 It was raining,
 
 I saw the red painted dots,
 
 On the floor,
 
 On my jeans,
 
 Which I was trying,
 
 To save...
 
 To save...
 
 
 I forgot giving,
 
 You, your medicine,
 
 In the morning.
 
 My hand is hurting,
 
 And I am afraid,
 
 To give you medicine.
 
 It seems like I don't care,
 
 But, something in me,
 
 Dark and sticky,
 
 Keeps bothering,
 
 Who the hell I am trying
 
 To save…
 
 To save…
 
 To save anymore…
 
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| Writer ProfilewarHazards 
 
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 | Comments 
 
April | Jul 29th, 2004
I like your poem. Its lovely. 
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