young adults

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What is it like to be eighteen? Eighteen is driving down a dark road Blasting music At 12 am. Eighteen is a baby eagle Just leaving
Dear Hands, I’m sorry for how I used to treat you, Like disposable gloves. Creating permanent reminders of what has been and was.
Hands over hearts, morning after morning Some don’t bother speaking anymore Their silence is louder than the words that flit around the classroom Why pledge Allegiance to a country that has wronged so many?
I have noticed so much potential in the eyes of young adults, in the eyes of children, in everyone. And everywhere I go I see this little spark. This spark is precious. To compare that spark, think of a budding plant.
When I drown in my mindAnd look for helpI need you to be kindYet you make me yelp All these words you shoveRight down my throatYou blame my choicesAs your scapegoat The words, they go...:
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