it's dark we're lost we need to find a way out we're trapped boxed in air is running out help us save us we're slaves entrapped by doubt unseen unheard we whisper we talk we shout we push we shove we make it back to the end we're scared alone we're lost without a friend we're here they're coming we've nothing to defend escape we must from comformity the fashion trend
Reason for writing:
Another poem my me stating my feelings.
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