I contradict myself in everything I do, every poem I write, and every answer I give, They tell us our opinion matters. But, how can it if we live in a world that constantly changes? How can it when you feel like you are stuck in that world and you're always two steps behind the others? How can it when you feel like you're older, more mature, wiser, when you feel different from everyone around you? It matters because everyone's different in every way, shape, and form you can think of. Why should that limit us? We're all different. We shouldn't brought down because of it. Besides, doesn't being different, makes us all the same?
Poems by: Jessica and Aparupa
Cover by: CorkyPorky


7. The Strangest Feeling

Tall trees growing everywhere.

The whistling of birds.

Damp earth.

Fresh water.


I can feel the wind blowing my hair as I run.

Not from a what,

But a who.

Not from a who,

But a what.


It's the strangest feeling.

I feel joy,

And sadness.


And loud.


I see two paths stretched out in front of me,

And I turn right.

I turn right to right the wrong,

And to make wrong the right.


I have the strangest feeling.

The feeling of tall trees growing everywhere.

The feeling of the whistling of birds.

The feeling of damp earth.

The feeling of fresh water.


I feel alone.

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