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Child in the Plaster

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I am the child in the plaster
What a horrible life I live
Frozen in time and in motion
Only to see pure darkness
Never to feel the tender touch of the breeze upon my face
Only to taste the salt and dust this makes me gag
In the summer I bake, the plaster as hot as a stove
In the winter my shell turns brittle and hard cutting deep like glass
My cocoon never opens and I never change
Cut off from humanity I wait
Without any freedoms
Without any love
Without any kindness, compassion or empathy
I will survive





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