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I'm here sitting in class,
Listening to music, waiting for time to pass.
Looking around, to see other people,
From first glance, they think I'm simple.
But what they don't know,
Is my past from long ago.
Which's conditions we still suffer,
Every hour, day, and year, as it gets tougher.
We don't know if we are safe,
Maybe we wont know until it's too late.
They may not do something in a while to stall,
But they may not do anything at all.
I guess they will never know,
Unless my past I decide to show.
As I look around and see the others,
I smile, as I think of the past they'll never discover.
But what do I know?
Maybe their own pasts they wont let show.
So I'll let you ponder that thought,
Before my teacher catches me, and I get caught.