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Megan

If you don't learn to write your own story, someone else will write it for you

6 poems·Since May 2013
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When It Falls

May 12, 2013
Snow. Like a predator swiftly stalks its prey, Silently swaying into the breeze. It prances, it dances, it covers the leaves. Swirling and twirling, drifting with ease. In the North and the South, the cold frigid air. The snow will soon leave, the ground will be bare.
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