The Perfect Reflection

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I don't think there should be too many mistakes, but I'm typing on my phone, so bear with me. The title of this is a bit misleading, but I hope someone reads it. Let me know what you guys think. Well, morbid reading.

The day is hot and sticky,
The very air feels sickly.
The fog that covers the world,
Is almost as bad if not worse.

The sky decides to cry for me,
It cries a river of despair.
The clouds a furious grey,
Holds promises they refuse to say.

The clouds wail and they scream,
And brief flashes of light appear.
The rain shows no signs of letting up,
And the very world seems to grieve.

I wish the storm would leave,
Not accompany me to grieve.
My heart has been cut up into sections,
And the world is the perfect reflection.

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