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River
The broken hearts collect here,
Along with the broken dreams.
Broken hopes and promises
They make a steady stream.
You stoop by this river of misery,
Filling up your jars.
Filling out your logs,
Cataloging every scar.
The trio of old friends,
The ones turned into foes,
Stand by the start of the river,
Pouring in their own sorrows.
No matter who they start with,
No matter who they end.
You sit there and collect.
Until the tears descend.

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