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    If we were to trade places,
        I could rattle on as you do.
    I could compose eloquent speeches as you do
        and shake my head smugly at you and your problems.
    But I believe I would use my words to encourage you;
        my lips would move only to offer you relief.

    And yet, I am not you, you are not me,
        and my words are of no real use:
    When I speak, my pain is not relieved;
        if I remain silent, it does not go away.

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