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Rated: E · Poetry · Other · #1924644
The quiet child observes a lot.
Standing on the old street corner
In the summer heat
A pair of worn out sneakers
On my feet
Rundown houses
And empty parks
A heavy shoulder bag full of overdue books
Cuts through my afternoon daydream
Loneliness is only temporary
It seems
The quiet child sits alone
Unaware of her surroundings
Content on her own
She turns the page
And finds a friend
More real then any she's known
One home
Not her own
The other home
Unwanted and alone
Where to turn
When every days a lesson
I wish i  hadn't learnt
Ill sit in the green grass
And watch time pass
Snapping twigs between my fingers
But the memory
It lingers
All the books
And sympathetic looks
The whispered laughter
The innocent tears
And pain filled prayers
Hopes and fears
Of the shadows on the wall
Explain it all
The faces in the clouds
The moving pictures in there frames
The fear of a name
It was never meant to be any other way
Another lesson
I learnt today
The summer holidays move so fast
Still i cant seem to escape my past
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