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My Words 

My words are mine and I choose  whether or not to say them. My words are ink not lead, they are not easily erasable; not easily forgotten; not easily refutable. My words are my bond; like a belt around my waist, they bind me. My words are a boomerang; they will always come back to me.  My words are a mirror; they reflect the state of my mind.  My words

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I Don’t Know, But I Like My Friend

I don’t know, but I actually like my friend; Tessy – A LOT. I think she’s very funny and weird; like weird in a way that is not creepy. My mom thinks demons are sitting on Tessy’s head and according to her, ‘many voices probably whisper to her and tell her what to do’ I do not believe that. Tessy is just really creative. So here’s what she does: she

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Like A Well Without Water

I turn on the TV for some water And I see a well He is a politician; with a river of words gushing out of his well of a mouth I pant and reach into his deep deep words. But, alas, I found no water His words were bogus; They were the ramblings of a clueless mind But as deep as they sounded, They lacked substance – Like a well

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I Saw A Man Die Today

I saw a man die today and it felt awful, I could do nothing about it but dab at the tears in my eyes and feel sorry, And he could do nothing about it but just die.   I watched fear flood the man’s eyes and it felt embarrassing, ‘I could hug him and tell him it’s alright‘, I thought. But he could not have heard me if I tried,

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Sieve Mouths!

I am shocked by these kids in my secondary school and the words that trickle down their lips. It’s like their lips are sieves with no restraint and the words are liquid that just freely flush through the holes of their sievey mouths.  We have only spent 10 days in Jss1 and I know something about almost everyone’s family.  On the second day; orientation day, I met a small boy

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Sticks and Stones

My mother always said, ‘There are three things that can happen if people throw stones at you. One, you can take the stone and use it with your catapult to attack others. Two, you can take the stones and be swallowing them until they kill you. And three, you can take the stones and use them to build a house’  I never gave much thought to those words until my

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The Will

My dad and I were never friends. I don’t know where it began, or how it did, but we just never clicked. When I was 10 years old, he broke his leg running round the house  to get me and whoop my ass. I don’t even remember what I did that made him mad because almost everything I did made him livid.  It wasn’t such a big deal to me

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Or What?

‘Get out of my way’ he said,  As he push her out of their bed Crawling back on her knees, she asked,  ‘Lord is this my husband or another as he, masked?’  *** ‘Get out of my way!‘ he yelled  As she clenched her fists; her anger he fueled  But move, she did for she had learned, That a husband’s anger must have been earned  *** ‘Get out of my

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I carry a very heavy weight in my heart and I am looking for the right way to drop it. It’s very sensitive because it’s not supposed to be a weight on the surface of it.  Here it is: my son, Dipo, is too… Plain (blunt? Honest? Literal?).  There, I said it. I feel bad already because he’s my son and he’s only 6 years old and I shouldn’t be

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Mom, even you? 

One of the greatest mysteries I think exist in life is how people say some things and then mean another. I have never understood it, even since I was just an all-believing child.  It’s funnier because I find that I can hear what people don’t say louder than I can hear what they say. And so it baffles me when I hear words different from what comes out of your

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