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Poetry
Top voted Poetry
#456401voted by our readers
By Emily Micciulli BRONZE
Rye, New York
I stare at her, The only movement in the still of the room. Her piercing eyes as blue as the sky, Fixated on the big black box above her. The outside world doesn’t exist, As...
Rye, New York
I stare at her, The only movement in the still of the room. Her piercing eyes as blue as the sky, Fixated on the big black box above her. The outside world doesn’t exist, As...