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It always rains on my birthday,
Every year it pours,
I hope for the blazing sun,
On this celebratory rerun.
It always snows in February,
Never at Christmas time,
I dream of snowy London,
To stop all the commotion.
One day it may work out,
They may always become
Sometimes.
Until that does arrive,
I will remain inside.
This was written by our contributing writer, Lyndsey Richards.
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