The Movement

August 21, 2008
By Jenna Bower, Scottsville, NY

Rebuilding,
Ignoring,
The pain in
restoring,
my life and
the something
that never existed.
I plead,
but you leave.
I cry and
I heave.
this pack
on my back
is bound to
resort in
the words
that I lack
and you say
the moves that
I dance
and the song that
you play.
We die
alone,
anyway.


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