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November 19, 2009

By Cow94, Salmiya, Kuwait

It was another day.
The same type of day.
Sleepy yet not sleepy.
Night gone wasting for insomnia.
Dead thoughts.
Wasted feelings.
Unknown soul.

Then there came one day,
the saviour - a piece of paper.
Same repetitive word.
Surely around fifteen times.
Her saviour.
An uplifting start.

Walking past those rows.
Those gaps of rows,
smell of those wooden benches.
Just a question, her saviour.
"What's the sorry for?"
"I think you're sad 'cause of me, that's why".
Oh! How that one sentence made her feel warm.

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