Sarah Ragan Poems

The locker.
Am i locked out or am my books locked in!
That is the question.
It is symbolic of my hatred and symbolic of my love.
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Bursting brightness inside,
A bright light I try to hide,
I hope no one is looking at me,
a good book a ice cream a found key,
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Climbing, climbing up a latter, where i'll go doesn't matter.
Climbing, climbing up a latter oops i fell it doesn't matter.
Cllimbing climbing up a latter, oops i died it doesn't matter.
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