I'll start doing these little poetic stories every once in a while, which I will not add to. These are sorta like creative outlets for me.
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The wind was
crying
outside the door,
like someone
begging
to be let in.
in the city
everyone cries
everyone wants
to be let in.
To feel the warmth
of a home
and of a
family.
Out in the cold
this season is meanest
to the ones who have nothing,
so the only
thing
I can do is
tell them
that like the wind,
they will go places
and be free.