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Oct 2020
the way the syllables tripped off her tongue
like an unkept secret, or a phone that only rung
and the way that she trudged, without her feet
a colossal blizzard, a war ending in defeat
but it wasn't her heart, it was her mind
a clock that stopped ticking, visions gone blind
she cant help but ponder who she would be
if the apple had just fallen, away from the tree
Written by
Nona Green  19/F/Florida, USA
(19/F/Florida, USA)   
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