Poems from ACitclearly

I write to give my raging thoughts a name and a place.
Dear Mr. Woods, can you let me out without ever letting me go, Mr. Woods? The rain pours and weighs down your branches, now I'm soaked from...
Music is an outlet, it sings and let's go of the things that we see, but don't really know. You don't need eyes to see it, nor ears to...

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