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The Text
March 9, 2016
Casually driving through the rolling hills,
staring at the bright, colored trees
to spend a weekend together.
Chatting about our future,
where we will go to college,
what careers we want to pursue.
Hearing a soft ring and
picking up my phone
to look at my friend’s recent text.
Waking to sirens,
seeing a bag with a tuft of black hair
poking out from underneath,
wishing I wasn’t alive.
Life is my punishment.
© Cole D., Willow City, ND
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