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Colorblind Night
{This is the poem that I'm expected to read at the event mentioned here. I wrote this poem in the eighth grade.}
It's a colorblind night out
the kind where you can't find
a star in the sky
the kind where you can't see the blurry trees
as you're passing by.
hear the spring breeze brushing
against the car
listen to the water
lapping against the shore.
suddenly lost.
which way do we go?
down a winding road?
mud in the path makes the tires slow
winding, winding
down, down, down
a green light
water....
a lake!
turn around.
up, up, up,
backwards through the dark
the headlights make the only mark
in the colorblind night.
April 20, 2004 at 10:48 PM
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No wonder they asked you to recite this poem - it's really great!