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On My Way Home

I was driving down the rainy highway
With salty tears like meager drops from a vast sea
Forming rivers down my cheeks.
They were unexpected and sudden
As the cloudburst above me
I watched the wipers move methodically to catch the rain
While I wiped the tears from my own eyes.
But more tears replaced them
Like new drops of rain on the glass.
I cried out, but no one could hear
Through the muffling structure surrounding me.
It was a bottle and I was the message inside
That has never been found
Or that no one cares to read.
And the rain kept on falling, and is falling still.

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