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    jean
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    My childhood gone a slave to men is what i remember again and again.
    The times i said never again and then it happened all over again.
    The men i loved and thought loved me but then the fists and more misery.
    The pain the hurt no one can know the sorrow the guilt i will always know.
    The tears i cry i will wipe away because tomorrow is another day.

    No one will know the pain I have.
    The hurt the tears may have been heard.
    but whispers in my mind will always be mine inside.

    I hear the whispers in my ear so close so very near.
    Another day i have survived from all the damage deep inside.

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