HighSchoolMemories
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The dove flies
With the light of his soul
As he egerly goes
And claim his goal.
Over the rainbow
Through the wind
To the sun
Where his journey'll end
But a raven lives
Curled up on an armchair
My fingers stained with ink or lead
Shaking hands and too many tears shed
I've never been able to get this anxiety under control
The slightest slip up and I feel completely alone
