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Why (they want me to put a longer title so here it is the title of my poem is Why, that is all)

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Why
when I’m down and out
you’re always there to pick me up.
Why
when I’m hurt and broken
you’re always there to help pick up the pieces.
Why
when I’m sad and blue
you’re always there to make me smile.
Why
when you hurt me
when you made me sad
when you made me feel down in the dumps
you were never there.
Why weren’t you there?
Why do you do the things you do?
Why?





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