My eyes began to close with tears
Knowing I would wake up with fear
My mother's hand laying on the floor
For I was only four
Not knowing I would not see her again
Just as a teen I was, when I was adopted
With hidden sadness of regrets
Let's hope this dream ends
I don't call it dreams ,
I call it Regrets
Made by @pastel_sunset , this my first attempt to actually ryme my poems but yeh hope you like it
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