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Geometry MAG
White faces
Pale flowers,
turned to the
chalkboard,
Bathed in fluorescent glare,
A sun.
The teacher's hypnotizing
monotone
washes over our
blank brains,
pouring into the air,
filling it to the brim,
Acid rain.
We flounder under
the vague truths,
Students momentarily
snared
in their desks.
A screaming bell.
The trap is lifted,
A spring shoots us forth
in unison,
Wild animals,
fleeing from their captor,
Free.
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