The Inner Workings of a former grade seven

I wrote this in grade eight and i kinda dug it so... you know, well its about when i was in grade seven and it wasnt a fun year so :p yeah

I'm racing through my mind searching for something to grasp that will pull me back to reality.

Here clouds are blue and big, the air is hot and dry and everything is presented to me on a pedestal, but i cannot reach it.

I'm running through the back of my being like a maze of mirrors looking for the light in the dark corners.

The Exit is my in my reflection but it is concealed behind a thin sheet of glass in the edges of a black frame hanging on the wall of my mind

From a blue Tac

The End

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