Posts
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The Season of Death
Death reaches his hands
Shrivels leaves
Rips them up
Soon the ghosts and ghouls will scream
They've waited all year for Halloween
But this death is not a scary thought
In fact it's comforting
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My love lies in the chilly air
I’ve always loved the autumn
Costumes and candy on halloween
Turkey and family on thanksgiving
Bright colors and cute clothes
The season gave me joy,
But as i grew up it gave peace
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To the little girl with big dreams
I wish the sun always shone
But never burned your skin
And that when it is snowing
The cold never nips
I wish all your tears were happy
And you never knew grief
But I know none of this is true
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Moderation
To live is to die
To laugh is to know what it feels like to cry
To try is to fail
To have friends is to have enemies as well
The good does not stand alone
But neither does bad
There is no ying without yang
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What’s in a name?
Beatrice
“The bringer of joy”That doesn’t quite feel right
I’ve been told my smile lights up the room
But who am I to believe that my existence would be the pinnacle of bright?
And maybe that is the catch
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To Be The Sun
I dreamed
I was the sun
over the shimmering sea
illuminating everything
perfectly
Loves
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If You Were To Trace My Roots
If you were to trace my roots
What would you see
Would my past be full of kings and queens
Royalty
People who had everything handed to them
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Scary
I think it's scary
To have someone
Who has done horrible things
Be in charge of our country
Have power and be in control
I love our world
But it's a mess
I don't want it
To get worse
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One night I won't worry about old insecure men
At night
When my brain is flooded
With fears and worries
I think about
What will happen
If abortion isn't legal
If old men
Get to continue
To decide what
Happens to me
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I think my parents deserve to be happy.
They deserve to laugh and sit on the floor and coo over babies.
They deserve to talk in a language I don’t understand.
They deserve to look at each other with love.
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A Letter for Everyone on YWP – One Last Time
Dear YWP,
The first time I wrote you a letter I was 13.
The second, 15.
I'm 18 now; how time flies, my lovely people.
And this is the last letter.