December 29, 2011
I hate that number
Its never does any good for me
When I was 7
I was brought to a strange places
And left there for a whole year
It was on the 37th when my parents came back to get my and acted like I should run back to them crying joy tears
But I was all out
It was 7 guys who took my inicents all at ones
While my cousin was just 7 inches away
With 7 ounces of coke snuffed up her nose
It took 7 hours for the baby that I would never get to see again to come out
7 has so much meaning
it was 7 hits It took to take me down
I have to take 7 pills every week to keep me from stabbing someone (or myself)
I can never find any thing good about 7
But I can find one
The 7 short minutes I got to see my daughters face
Her beautiful smile
And her little hand
Around my pinky
I cant wait till the 7th when I get her back

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Dweathermankort This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. said...
Jan. 3, 2012 at 1:42 am
Wow, I got the chills with this one. I like the misspellings as well, they add a metaphorical sense to your work. It's like a social commentary on the number 7. Can't wait for more work from you! Keep at it.
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