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Writing
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The End
The thrum,
The pulse,
The ever-increasing
All-consuming
Tick-tock
Tick-tock
Tick-tock
Counting down
The end.
The
End.
We all know it.
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To be a teen
To be a teen
Is to lose your sense of self
Completely.
What is right?
What is wrong?
What is cool?
Why do some feel so drawn to popularity
While others are repulsed by it?
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Comfortably Numb
I don’t love school.
I don’t hate it all the time
but I hate it enough to say
I don’t like it.
I like one class
and goofing off during study hall
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I'll go
I've been to the desert
Following something
I cannot blameSee the ghosts by the water
The horses in the rain
The man lying by the river
Hearing god call his name -
Why?
Why?
Why are we scared?Why is fear overwhelming our delicate bodies?
Why are we letting it?
Why can’t we instead of being scared
fight for others
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Lemonade
I slip through the house
tiptoeing through the hallways that loom over my sensitive ears
I enter the kitchen
where a pitcher of lemonade is sitting on the counter.
Yes.