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WhispersI see the way your friends look at me, whenever, I appear. The look in their eyes, is the look you get, from someone who really doesn't care. I see them speaking, but, I can't hear what they say. And, they try to hide the smirks, and the lies by looking the other way. So, I frown and ask, what's wrong here? Did I say, or do something wrong? They say no, as they turn their backs the other way. But, what they don't know, is that I know, everything you do. But, I keep it to myself, refusing to help myself, Living with you is better than living without you. Until I leave this world, and this finally ends, Whispers will continue, among you and your friends! Vote for this poem
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