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Poetry
Top voted Poetry
#428941voted by our readers
By Anonymous
He hit me, for the millionth time. I cried that day. And I made a wish. That he would never hurt me again. I didn't know the value of a wish. Or that wishes come true.
He hit me, for the millionth time. I cried that day. And I made a wish. That he would never hurt me again. I didn't know the value of a wish. Or that wishes come true.