You Only Write Once Scholarship Poetry Slam
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When a story is told,
passed by generations
father to son,
mother to child.
These stories need to be protected.
When the fires wreak hovok upon a city
we must race to libraries.
The first day of a never ending trial
The world is my jury;
It decides what I will be,
How I should look,
How I should feel.
With the interrogating pressure of success
I saw a video today about the life of a typical teenage girl (in the 21st century).