Poetry | School

in poetry •  7 years ago 


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I sat under a heavy tree cover
In front of my clean class
Amidst a beautifully beloved garden that I always miss
Book I stared deeply
Whatever the marching lad will become my science

Really fun, reading amid a peaceful and clean atmosphere like this
Sometimes boredom comes with a myriad of tasks that twist the mind
Until sometime, I do not want to get to this school

Far looking at the school side
This is where I'm studying Science
Practicing keeping clean
Practice keeping the peace
Practicing soul forging


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