Junior year
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Fresh 16 my life was great, license, car, fuel in my tank.A simple question asked of my mother flipped my world like to fucking otherHer eyes told me the answer, the one I did not want to hearand this began the best and yet worst of my yearTo the
The city of Los Angeles
It draws you in with a hope for glory,
A chance to truly improve your story,
Yet as you walk the city streets
You hear the sound of a thousand feet
Telling you, "It's not your day.
Hello.
How are you?
That's nice.
Me?
How am I?
Oh.
Oh no.
You don't want that answer.
Why?
You sure you wanna know?
Remember, you did this to yourself.