Her Matters Grace Ye Yesterday, she recalls her eyes gazing out the classroom Towards the vast land of lights and mass of people Afloat, going here and there, she stands atop the roof Spinning doubt, still figuring it out
Falling on O’ weary A train travels Nodding off hums to a sea of mumble jumbles. She still peak at the pains and blemished face afraid Gazing into a selfie screen behind curtains of hair and cease Mocking those daily fought wars within dark under eye crescents I pray she’ll blossom into childish laughter set in mighty skies For that was all there really was; wonder. Be far Gone low some thoughts. To her young everythings. Wonderful, if each of their owns matter. Patches of gentle light spilled on waves to pointless chatter.
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