The Autumn Apocalypse This work is considered exceptional by our editorial staff.

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The naked trees fray
Like her split ends
The skies turn grey
Like the last of her joyfulness
So surely it’s
Her own decay
As she stares at joyless, Greenless grasses
And remembers how it felt running Barefooted

The leaves chip off
Like her summery nail polish
The cool air wafts
Reminding her of its sunlessness
She’d hoped she could
But learn she cannot
While in sunless, windowless Classes
And while remembering how freedom Tasted





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Sheik This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. said...
Feb. 21, 2013 at 7:45 pm
Truly amazing! I think the last verse speaks to any kid in school.
 
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