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Little droplets of blood,
Like little sprinkles of rain
Sadness was like a flood
Only dammed by my pain
My roses had turned to ashes,
With petals made of glass
On my arms were gashes
As I waited for this feeling to pass
The world spun so fast,
Holding onto a knife
I was gazing at the past,
Unsure of my life
For you never know what tomorrow will bring,
If with sorrow you will cry or if with joy you will sing
4.20.2016... this was a sonnet I wrote for an English assignment. I didn't end up turning it in (along with a few other sonnets I wrote which I might post soon because of the slight fear of being sent to the counselor's office, but I feel like sharing it since tomorrow is the New Year and it's this bright fresh lovely opportunity for everybody. Thank you for reading :)
 Jan 2017 Jaclyn Harlamert
maxime
Sand slips through the cracks in my hands
As a struggle to keep it close.
It always finds a way to go,
No matter how tight I hold.
My grip must be weak,
Or maybe it’s betraying me.
Because a better part of me knows
The sand will always slip away.
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