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Sometimes when the gentle rain
Patters against my window,
I think of the tears and the pain,
That I will never show.

When the sun shines down,
On our entwined fingers,
I think of the love we once had,
And how its presence no longer lingers.

And when the thunderstorms,
Crash against my hearts closed door,
Your words of love and trust,
Will not be heard, anymore.

January 9,1992