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  1. C

    do you like what i wrote?i call it "procrastination" im 13?

    as hard as you listen, you can never hear them muffled by the rhythm of the rain beating on the glass you hear a small, smothered whimper you stumble downstairs and wait wait for a voice, wait for silence minuets go by, then hours you sit and sit... suddenly you feel its cold, bony hand slither...
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