When all the stadium lights are dimming, flickering, sending a message

to flee, a young girl squats down on fading green grass

In her left hand, a dandelion, in the other, a pencil,

snapped in half, the point dull.

with closed eyes and trembling pale fingers,

she blows, the dandelion breaking apart, floating in the soundless night

she traces a single word, imprinted on the delicate flesh:


A release, from the chains of depression

A release, from the neglect at home

A release, for big dreams, and a big bright future

More than a passion, more than imagination

It is the very things that defines, you. 




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