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Oct 2013
She walks down the hall in silence. The chirping of birds cheerily taunting from views of closed windows. Locked inside a placewhere naivety is not only taught, but spoon fed. Bangs in her eyes as she hums a tune, focusing only on the tapping of her steady feet, clothed in black Converse on the tiled school floor, dreaming of a day where anything could be better. At least that's the start of hope. The blooming of something new. When alone and stuck in the flow, one tends to try and break free.
Lyz Elysian
Written by
Lyz Elysian  20/F/America
(20/F/America)   
447
 
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