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May 9
As we all wake up
But we aren't the same
Continuously living the same as we did yesterday
Dying inside cause we feel we have nobody
Everyone not caring what they say
For some people, fight to save their life
Giving her life
Her life is now actually being noticed
Inside her a fire raged
Joyfully she would lay it all down
Killing her soul softly
Love didnt win
Mending broken hearts
Never thinking of herself
Out of the ashes
Placed others needs before her own
Quitting the pain
Ripping through a past of scars
Shutting out others thoughts
Unlike all the others
Violence would cease
Was it all in vain
Xyst: something she has always wanted to see, now she can
Yellow, blue flowers and many more flowers to see
Zymotic is something she felt

Xyst: a garden walk planted with trees
zymotic :relating to or being an infectious or contagious disease.
This is my first alphabet poem from a couple years ago, it took forever!
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