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So it rains a little harder than yesterday.
They warned the storms are coming, but anyway,
I’m already wet.
I might as well dance.
I know the sun is still shining behind black clouds.
Day turns into night, thanks to the airborne shrouds.
I woke up early.
I might as well rest.
The rainbows will great me, if I ever awake.
Yet I still keep count of every right “mistake.”
I use one hand.
I might as well quit.
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