Ink
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ForeignersA Poem by InkThere is no American DreamBut maybe if we bang our headsAgainst this ceiling long enoughWe can scrounge up a living in the dent we madeWhile the cru.. |
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IcarusA Poem by InkMy father Collects the dried wax On the tables of romantic dinners We are too high up And melts the passed time Into a candle of his own Our own.. |
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Return Signed to HomeroomA Poem by InkHe always wears jeans and long sleevesThe days after grades come outEven when the sun's so angryThe asphalt molds beneath your feetAnd only few will.. |
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The SuicideA Poem by InkThere was no calm before it happened. That's the sign they tell you to look out for in school, a sudden calm that follows the sadness. .. |