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Levels of Grief
I got a 39 on my Pre-Cal quiz,
my French teacher's dad past.
She broke down,
I stared at my math teacher downcast.
I sat at my desk,
hidden grade in hand.
The movie had orphans,
I wonder if their kind is grand.
I acted like a blind person,
I guided a blind mimic.
It was a lesson,
just a gimmick.
My mom survived cancer,
another's came back.
Only ten years left,
before the attack.
My brother is sick,
My teacher's dad unsafe.
The blind are in the dark,
The inevitable waif.
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Everyone will become a orphan, everyone will lose, everyone will grieve.