I can't tell you how disadvantaged I had felt. For every little thing I did, I needed a stronger hand to help me. It was natural—my weakness was natural.
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Bleeding Blue
PoetryI do not see color anymore. I cannot love no more. I don't think I want to live furthermore. Genre: Poetry
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I can't tell you how disadvantaged I had felt. For every little thing I did, I needed a stronger hand to help me. It was natural—my weakness was natural.
