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Rain are the Tears
The rain are the tears,
silently falling.
The smaller they are,
the more hearts are crying.
The clouds so depressing,
no sunshines through.
Seemingly not moving,
seemingly with nothing to do.
The lightning we strike,
the thunder they roar,
once the clouds part,
all will be happy once more.
But as soon as it shines,
clear and free,
the clouds start moving,
bringing no glee.
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