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The unamed poem
June 10, 2013
He may have crawled backwards,
But he always moved forwards,
He is an inspiration to all,
In darkness he found light,
In sadness he found happiness,
he is the definition of hope.
He was a fragile flower,
But wouldn’t let the wind take him down,
His bones were like glass,
And his skin was like paper,
But nothing was stronger than his heart.
© Shira B., Marblehead, MA
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