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Oct 2014
If sitting in the middle of a boring class, half-asleep with the teacher droning on about long-division was a colour, that would be my eyes.

Dull. Boring. Nothing special.

Somewhere you just want to leave.

My eyes don't sparkle like the stars, they aren't deep like a poem.

They are shallow.
Lifeless.

My eyes are the only thing that describe me well,
because with no words they still say something about me:

DEAD.
CE
Written by
CE  19/M/merrily on high
(19/M/merrily on high)   
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