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Alone, suffering, Our hero's minds left to rot, Mental health: forgot.
Across these rigidWastelands, Perseus holds hisSnake ridden trophy,For he decapitated,This monstrous, Gorgon bred Queen
Growing up, the happy endings are shoved down our throats Like a spoon full of sugar While other kids grow up with the harsh realities of their lives
My hero is my grandpa Someone who I saw no flaw He woke up healthy and happy That day he fell so snappy I saw him go from a working guy To a man who could have died From a little blood on his head
Theres a point to poetry.  Theres a point to the words people say that create images in our heads and fule our intentions. And there are people meant for it. They were chosen,
9/11, a horrific day But, there are some people who still can say   I was there when the first tower fell I heard the injured’s panicked yell   I ran in to try to help them all
  If I could be anything I would be a book Filled with adventures Dashing heroes Brave heroines Cunning villains There are always happy endings and fairytale kisses
How many can actually commit their lives to small town kids? Give us time to forget our, Differences! No time for prejudices when we, Fly! Throw your hands up, Rock on!
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