July 26, 2011
My bangles are reeds.
My shackles
fit no keys
for the only thing that fills
is marrow.
How am I expected
to play cards
without an allowance to
Bound hands do not do wonders.
My bangles are reeds.
They glitter like
moonlight and old rivers
but they were stolen from me
many years ago

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HIPPIEatHEART_writerINsoul This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. said...
Jul. 29, 2011 at 9:54 am
This is very beautiful. I can tell that you're a talented writer and you seem like a wise person. I am especially fond of the meaning, which is very thought-provoking.
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