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whispering hands

There are lives of me you'll never know,
Things that I will never show.
For you deserve this; not to know,
Why I turned my back to go.
See the worry; fret the fear,
See things so unclearly dear!
This be just so clean and clear,
Why I left you standing here.
Wicked ways abandon there,
Happiness and joy to share.
This key if to live we dare,
And return another's stare.