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Nov 2010
Security lights flash on and off,
Wind gushes through leaves,
Strange crumpling sounds from bushes
Make senses feel unease.
But,
As the tingling rushes through my veins
I lose ability to translate thought.
Instead;
My head pulsates..
Again, I hear the sirens’ scream.
Again, my conscious self
Becomes nothing but a dream.
Jessica Woodward
Written by
Jessica Woodward  Bristol
(Bristol)   
581
 
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