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what is happening cannot be spoken time is out running out, running out dream richly to myself it's the last few days
Mask hides sad mind weights pull I wish to fly can’t break chains of pain toss and turn lack of sleep
During the times I’m feeling blue I look around for things to do To keep myself occupied And dwell on the brighter side Of the aspects in life To get through my strife I listen to music and sing a song
On a good day: I wake up From a strange dream. Desperately replaying it in my mind, Over and over again, So as not to forget it, I feel Mom tickle my feet. "Wake up!" she says.
Sometimes you just have one of those days Where absolutely nothing is going your way you bombed that science test you spilt juice on your shirt you scraped your knee dropped your ice cream on the dirt
There is this deep, evasive emptinessthat never ceases to lack control.That conquers and escapes,that stirs quiet chaos in my soul.
STOP! Interrogating me, treat this classroom as if it was the business world! You people claim we are young adults, preparing us the college but professor won’t baby us,
Teacher, Teacher! Can’t you see? These big bright lights are bugging me! I woke up early, Did not eat, So my hair’d be curled, nice, and neat. I took the bus, So full of gum,
So, I had a friend in Middle School. She was perfect. So damn perfect that it hurt to look at her sometimes. She was smart, she was funny, she didn’t hole up like a snail when she talked to boys,