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Poetry In Motion
Poetry in motion,
Something I was once called,
I never understood,
What they wanted me to see.
The beauty they talked of,
Was never really there,
Never did I feel beautiful,
With all their stares.
Never did they notice,
How withdrawn I became,
How their stares made me want to close in,
And hide myself from them.
How could I be,
Poetry in motion,
When the very heart of me,
Did freaze?
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