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I'm running across a huge hill of manicured grass like an endless lawn  I just can't get past  as I crest the hill top i look down and see  a sidewalk  waiting for me  beyond it a city 
When my pencil hits the paper I feel the world come to a stop. Suddenly I hold my voice in one hand. The chains that constrained me drop.   I'm not small. I'm not scared. I'm not silent for you.
You say you’d like a poem To explain just why I write So I thought hey! I’ll show ‘em There’s no recipe? Right? I’ll guess as to criteria Flow: naturally Relatable: I feel ya! …Originality
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