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His inside is torn up,
But he pretends like it is nothing,
I walk pass him with a smile,
I know my kind of people too well.

He is always closing his eyes,
Like everything in this world hurts,
And he is avoiding them,
By closing his eyes.

He is always on his headphone,
Like every noise heard,
Could tear his inside,
Into a cold bloody war.

He is always in a dark clothes,
Dark sweatshirt and dark pants,
With dark journal and dark novel,
It is making him a dark person.

n.m