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Rated: E · Poetry · Arts · #1688937
Seeing things for what they truely are.

I push past the bushes, looking
And finally I reach it
A gathering of rocks going up
I find a near by rock and sit

I stare with wonder, such beauty
Clear water rushing down the rocks
I want to go near it, touch it
So I carefully take off my shoes and socks

I slowly step closer to the water
and bend over to touch the delicate stream
The water slips through my fingers
Just like it would in a dream

Suddenly it grows dark and gloomy
And the water doesnt feel the same
It feels evil and dirty
But before it was fine and plain

I wipe my hands, and walk away
With shivers down my spine
All the scary gloomy thought go
And now I feel just fine

But soon I relaise, what this place is
A scary place that is two thing
One were scary memories live
And two, were the happy memories sing
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