When we listened to music,
You always made fun of my choices,
And insisted to play rap,
When I wanted to listen to country,
“My ears are bleeding,”
I swore I wouldn’t miss,
The terrible raps that would,
Fill my ears,
I wish I could hear it all day,
Just so I could,
Spend some time,
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some sad poem things.
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A poem about growing up.
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A poem about someone with depression