Anisa Witham Poems

He talks but you seem not to hear.

You look around.
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You pick the biggest one they got,

When you get back home you think,
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I walk into school,

I go over to my friend Izzy,
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You look outside you see drops falling from the sky,

You wonder how they get there, how they fall.
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The way the sky is gloomy and blue today.

It’s cold the wind is moving slow.
...