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Guns Pulled out Aiming at us Boom! Down they go One by One Silence
When did my back become your ladder My spine, the steps My tan from the dirt wiped off from the bottom of your feet When I yelled from the pain you did not look down My tears were like water under a bridge
The thing about poetry is that it calms your thoughts  relating one thing to another without so much as a pause  because our brains work in mysterious ways  poetry tells us we don't have to be afraid 
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