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FEAR The house is quiet only a tick tock; The sound of the kitchen wall clock... Coming down the street I hear a car, Could it be him coming home from the local bar? I crawl out of bed in a hurry to see. Oh please don't let him see me. I hurry under the covers to hide, Rolling over on my side, Pretending to be asleep, Trying hard not to weep. I cannot cry, not one little tear. Each night I lay here in fear. For if I begin to cry, This just may be my night to die. |
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