Everyday I walk down the alley, hoping for something new, all the pitter patters, such a familiar tune. I'm not like the others, not simple and bland and I still chose to listen to the voices that preside over me like whirling sand
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Forest Hills| Poems and Stuff.
Poetryunder the forest hills lies my heart for all where my head has gills and my heart falls.
From D.A
Everyday I walk down the alley, hoping for something new, all the pitter patters, such a familiar tune. I'm not like the others, not simple and bland and I still chose to listen to the voices that preside over me like whirling sand