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A Poem

Weirdo

By: Raven Perry


Why do you insist on knocking me down?

And why do you have to push me around?

Why is it so much fun to pick on me?

Please let me know ‘cause I sure as hell don’t see.

Being alive sounds like a crime.

Everyday I feel as if I’m standing in the death row line.

I know some of you know how I feel.

Because of the fact that my feelings aren’t alone,

I know this is real.

~Jan 2 1996

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