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I used to sit in my room on my phone all of the time, even when my parents weren't home. I always knew I needed something more, as I was tired of feeling so alone. I then got out a paper and pen and poetry started to flow.
Happiness We all strive for it It is what we live for, after all. Some achieve it, to some degree,
Crazy maiden in the woods tracked her down as best I could She and I both bruised and bled. My leg was lame. She sought me dead.   A tear-smudged face,  a curdling cry A deadly grace,
I chase what I'm not, What I choose to be. I learn I run I play I watch I do I try Why? I will never master anything, But it's what I love; What's new,
I feel that I should write but I don't know what to say I'm not sure how I feel on this glorious day On one hand, it's good to be alive Then again, I can't seem to make up my mind  
There was once a boy who was not willing to fight For he was always humiliated and seen as shy. In him, there was no courage and only fright. He was fragile and only measured a short height.
Soft steps echo in the hushed hall. Dark figures sit and stare while Warm rays of light fall on him. Standing in center stage in front of a piano He bows, and then prepares for what is to come.
Roses are red Violets are blue
The point of this is to be heard Among a crowd, one reads my word My story and struggle one must listen
To the clouds, hawk says, "You are what I dreamed to have! My soft and white bed!"
Do you think avoiding me will make things better? You should know by now, I’m a real go-getter I’ll be who I am- screw tradition I’m a woman, on a mission I’m a huntress, and you’re the buck I’m having for dinner
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