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Apr 2021
My anxieties rising these days,
If they want to see they have their ways.

All I can see is old trees and dead grass,
Not seeing much is a pain in my ***.

Not being able to walk on my trail,
It’s starting to feel a lot like jail.

I feel trapped there’s nowhere to go,
I have so many emotions that I don’t want to show.
My friends very fist poem! And she says she can’t write🙄
Broken Pieces
Written by
Broken Pieces  19/F/Looking for home🛣️
(19/F/Looking for home🛣️)   
317
     ---, --- and Bogdan Dragos
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