milennials
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Lisa Frank is dead,
She's buried in the ground,
And with her lies our childhood,
Still, without a sound.
With every generation,
A passing interest dies,
Wait a couple decades,
I place my hand on my heart and my arm on my back
and I begin to sing then I begin to reflect
on all the people who gave their lives so I could live
So I could come to this event where all these people
Words fall
Like rain down foggy windows.
There is something
gentle
in the silence.
What can’t I live without?
