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a space for youth writing on mental health & identity
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a space for youth writing on mental health & identity
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![]() Inquires the capricious heart to the voice of reason: I gaze at dazzling dreams dancing on clouds, promising possibility, Saturated with the hope of love and passion, Humming to me, sweet as stardust, But I am shackled to the dead, silent earth Like a fallen angel forever separated from the light. Why must you torture me so? Reminds the voice of reason to the capricious heart:
I see dreams tainted with poisonous failure, Tear-sodden cheeks, devastated souls, and The howls of the lonely, dripping with sorrow; You shall soar too high, catapulting into the wrong star, Or miss the mark entirely, blazing like a meteor across the black abyss. Better to be shackled than eaten by the darkness. Comments are closed.
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November 2023
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