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**Dedicated to my sick little brother Tommy**
You can sense inside those empty eyes,
A pain we cannot testify,
Just an ounce would make you cry,
Looking into those empty eyes.
And as he stares ahead forlorn,
You feel his rhythm being torn,
He's no longer that blissful child,
For now he lay solemnly mild.
His health you crave to restore,
To heal the wounds that are sore,
But it's not in your power to administer such,
This is his fight, although you wish much,
That you might be a steadfast cure,
To those empty eyes that must endure,
The hardships of that sickening pain,
Those empty eyes with blotted tearstains.
You can sense inside those empty eyes,
A pain we cannot testify,
Just an ounce would make you cry,
Looking into those empty eyes.
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