Girl In the Blue Jacket Talkin’ To Flowers By: Victoria Spear Liddle, where is your head? Has the Red Queen…
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Why do I write? I bleed my feelings onto a page But the page is blank I scream my frustrations at the…
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My grandmother’s hands are calloused, worn, and hardened from years of work. Spending time slicing apples and peeling tangerines — acts of…
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Springtime: New Beginnings While Always Changing by: Olivia Duchanaud New beginnings in the air, Just as Earth starts to share, We…
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The Prom Queen She had it all But somehow she has nothing at all On the outside, she was thriving On the…
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Calling Mr Caterpillar By: Victoria Spear Staring at the screen for hours on end, i lose the satisfaction of being…