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Grade
8

The cold creeps onto my skin

I reach my arms to the ceiling

A standing ovation

 

My bare feet are against the wood

Of a stage

 

I am alone

I am Free

 

I am focused

I am real

I am ready

I

Am

Free

 

A stage,

Where in an hour

We will dance

We will sing

 

A stage,

Now empty

Excites me

Into believing

That we can do anything