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Zephyr
Poems
Sep 2013
Jail, five days a week.
Stuck in another jail house.
At least they let us walk from cell to cell on our own
before we have to sit (not even stand to stretch) for an hour
in a small, cold, stone room.
As they talk in monotone,
punishing us if we dare think about sleeping.
yeah, that's pretty much what school is.
Written by
Zephyr
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