John Green

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It’s a metaphor, see? You put the killing thing Right between your teeth, But you don’t give it the power To do its killing.  But you don’t get to choose If you get hurt in this world.
he lived the way it snows in mid-October when the slivers of the moon float down from the clouds into the transparent haze that we call the atmosphere   but the thing about October snow
Look at her eyesHow they glimmer and shineThe sun is settingYet still they sparkle in the light of the lime
In the deepest black of midnight Shines a tiny pen light As a tear-stained face strains To read words that contain A flood of emotion
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