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Illustration by @dariaesste
It was late at night
But she was still sitting on her bed
Tired of seeing sorrow
Running through her head
So she sits in the corner
Singing a lullaby to fall asleep
But instead
She cried and weeped
This happens not just once
Oh, poor Christine!
Every night is melancholy
An unhappy routine
I met her in January and ever since then, everything reminded me of her.
6432 Launches
Part of the Poetry collection
Updated on December 11, 2017
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