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Poetry
Top voted Poetry
#374071voted by our readers
By HELENDEGENERES GOLD
Forest Hills, New York
sometimes,when the wind blows i swear— i hear your voice. it comes, whistling,like you did— (you promised me you'd teach me how to whistle) its high and my ears bl...
Forest Hills, New York
sometimes,when the wind blows i swear— i hear your voice. it comes, whistling,like you did— (you promised me you'd teach me how to whistle) its high and my ears bl...