Beatrice Preti

Freshman - 954 Points [Beatrice Preti]

Just Begun

There's a beautiful sound that a wounded bird makes
When it screams its last breath as its slender neck breaks
And the sweet, salty tears of a puppy in pain
As its once-loving household turns slowly insane
There's a mad sort of ringing from the mice in the cave
When they figure out the map it took so long to engrave
And the glee in their silence when it turns out a trap
Leaving nothing still breathing…not even a bat
And the voices of crowds still screaming my name

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