scholarship letter poem

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To the rose with tears in her petals.   Who wilts every morning as the suns rays illuminate her wounds   Who’s roots dig deep but were grown too thin to drink in life  
My balloons never really had a name or a purpose, 
Dear brother, It was vague like a dim moonlight in sunrise, Your attempts to avoid those dark temptations, Chasing you left and right to what’s unwise, Leading you to a certain damnation.
Dear Mirror,   Your blank surface exposes all You stare back at me searching into my soul You whisper words of poison into my ear The slide up my back like a strange snake 
Dear Math, I don’t like you I don’t hate you because I seem to need you Even though you curse me out And I could never understand your ways
Dear Friend, Our friendship is like an hourglass and I can feel the sand running thin. You were raised in a world where you could fly free like a hummingbird,
I see too clearly that you are a rigid string unwilling to bend for, or to, others. Your plans are obscure, complicated,
Dear, Lady Who Told Me to "Get it Together"   Nobody tells you how sharp it feels, like a chord snapping and curling up on the e-string of a violin, how it means walking on the eggshells 
Dear, Lady Who Told Me to "Get it Together"   Nobody tells you how sharp it feels, like a chord snapping and curling up on the e-string of a violin, how it means walking on the eggshells 
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