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Peach Summer
Poems
Feb 2018
Bubble.
This atmosphere, is cold.
I can't really hear myself.
People wouldn't want me to talk.
They laugh obnoxiously, it ruins my concentration.
I know they're laughing.
All I hear is distorted words.
I think I'm d
r
o
w
n
i
n
g
Written by
Peach Summer
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