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a letter unread is left outside the door like a snare of anxiety left to uproot all security in bone. hanging heads- hung themself; what difference does it make when choosing different hells. what can i do? a poem lamenting their anguish so i can feel proud to have whispered a word: justice to the oppressed and undeserved. what power lies in my hands to give to those with none- a transfusion of privilege; one couldn't even dream it to be possible- once diversity is blanketed in white like harsh winter, we will starve of life itself and weep for days void of color.
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Apr 3, 2025
Apr 3, 2025 at 11:33 AM UTC
privilege
a letter unread is left outside the door like a snare of anxiety left to uproot all security in bone. hanging heads- hung themself; what difference does it make when choosing different hells. what can i do? a poem lamenting their anguish so i can feel proud to have whispered a word: justice to the oppressed and undeserved. what power lies in my hands to give to those with none- a transfusion of privilege; one couldn't even dream it to be possible- once diversity is blanketed in white like harsh winter, we will starve of life itself and weep for days void of color.
we-are-stories
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Apr 3, 2025
Apr 3, 2025 at 11:33 AM UTC
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