i see my grandmother
and see my silver cage
with blood and the
slithering heart is
gone somewhere
in my body.
my heart feels
like my mom's
cooking mushrooms.
i see a piano lying down
feeling so sad because
my grandmother
is dead and i wish
she never died.
my weather feels dead
like my grandmother.
she's dead even though
she didn't want to die.
3rd grader, not sure who wrote this..., columbus
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1 comment:
Wow. Was walking inside yourself a class writing project? Pretty effing good for third graders. My hope in humans' ability to write is renewed.
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