POEM
In high school I was a neglected child.
On my way back home from a party I had a vaguely intuition.
That we went down a ravine and got a concussion,
but my friend died and the doctors took her to the morgue.
At the end I woke up in a occupants den.
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ALWAYS LOOK AT WHAT YOU HAVE LEFT.
NEVER LOOK AT WHAT YOU HAVE LOST.
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