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On Graduating High School

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I had found myself, I’ve lost her now.
I dropped her at the door
Of Distraction and of Broken Vows
For filling up my core.

Restless, on the verge of flight,
We take mocking glance
Of what we were. Oh what a sight!
But now we’re happenstance.

The match is in it’s final round.
A ghost crowd loudly cheers.
But the game’s pretense, a gong resounds
Checkmate! No winner here.

I fill my lungs. I’ve been atoned.
I’m less of them, and more my own.





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