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The Schoolgirl Philosopher

A smile is a rarity

On her plain face.

Her books clutched to her chest,

Like a small child.

Her diary is full of

Poetry.

Her pencilcase,

Scrunched pieces of paper –

The remnants of thought.

 

Do not invite her to celebrations

For she will sit in the corner

And take notes.

 

In the classroom,

She stays mute and

In the corridor,

While others play,

She learns.

 

And when, from this place of learning,

We graduate,

She will carry her thoughts

Like a backpack.

The more she trudges along

The dusty road of life,

The heavier it will become.

This is not based upon anyone I know.  Including myself.

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About E.K.M.

Studying at university, passing the time until a publishing Talent Scout comes to pick me up and whisk me away to a world where I can be an author without having another source of income. If only.

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