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as days pass the mind slows,
left behind their she goes,
a year later i think back,
all i recall is black,
who surrounds me is a mystery,
even if they had u for 4 classes,
seems like the ground is my history,
i take off my glasses
hate to be said there's my name,
called or not its all the same
reading out loud a rhyming tale,
only enough breath for a sentence at a time,
coming to an end my voice goes stale,
what happened next was sublime,
i was insulted upfront and complemented behind happened so fast,
whoever complimented me i dont know but im glad she said it last,

- Title: school
- Artist: foler0
- Description: a friend said she liked this one
- Date: 05/30/2010
- Tags: school poem
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