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~your name~
The midi playing is Shake, Rattle and Roll!!
Dark, dreary, December.
A lone tree
Exposes bare branches
To pouring rain
And roaring wind.
Birds fly quickly
Attempting to escape
Destruction.
Split level house,
Safe, snug, warm,
A long distance
From the moors.
I cry . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Here I am
In a tiny cottage,
Gazing into dark distance.
Pouring rain,
Roaring wind,
Endless emptiness.
I cry . . .
HEATHCLIFF! . . . . . . . . .
Vote for this poem
EMILY B.
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