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There he is, standing there with
No one to bother his thoughts,
Hiding from the storm, writing
A song for a pretty girl
Who will never love him back.
See the rain grace his body,
Each drop a fallen angel.
Look at him by the moon’s light,
How it reflects in his eyes,
As if he alone held it.
Watch as he forms the letters —
Creating a better world
Than the one he stands in now.