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Raindrops
July 24, 2010
I would stare out the window and see him in a rain drop. Pressing my hands to the windowpane, I screamed for him to rescue me. My handsome prince in blue jeans and blue eyes. He made me remember of the times when I could still see the sky. The rustle of the falling trees and disintegrating leaves morphed my distanced voice into nothingness. Sometimes I would see him hanging from the branches, and I swear he saw me, but he would never come inside.
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