History ClassA Poem by Alisa Js
there were no small boxes in those history books and yet you played with hearts before the start, before Miss Hey rang the two second bell. we lept like gazelles to our seats while planning our escape a distant time in a distant place where captured minds rued the day young minds stuck on repeat, fueled by hatred, learned contempt passed down from generation to generation speaking without thinking thinking without relevant thoughts and then, there she was a different girl from a different place out of step with the rest, shy and quiet with a gift unspoken ... © 2018 Alisa JsReviews
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1 Review Added on June 5, 2018 Last Updated on June 5, 2018 |