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Literature Text
The seagull cries
From sunny skies
He sings of pain
And the rain
His voice speaks
Of mountain peaks
And purple flowers
With healing powers
I cry in reply
To the sky
Where the seagull cries
From sunny skies
From sunny skies
He sings of pain
And the rain
His voice speaks
Of mountain peaks
And purple flowers
With healing powers
I cry in reply
To the sky
Where the seagull cries
From sunny skies
Literature
To get along... :Hetaoni, oneshot:
"Just run dammit!"
Shouted my blonde haired friend, that thing was after us once again and we had next to no strengh left, running was the only ability our weak selves had. Wait, have I introduced myself yet? Oh, I can see why you were confused then. Well my name is Japan and I am going to tell you about what happened when we were in the mansion plus I hope you find this interesting.
We kept on running away deeper into the mansion, but we knew exactly where we were heading despite how giant this mansion happened to be, my head started to feel odd, my legs ached, my sight was being lost, but I had to carry on, we couldn't waste a
Literature
Spain. Without Romano 8
It had been a week since the party incident and Romano was still hauled up inside his room, refusing to come out. Italy was getting extremely worried and had tried many tactics to get Romano out of his room, but failed every time. Germany had a hard time consoling Italy and started coming over frequently to make sure everything was alright. He had offered Italy to come stay with him for a while, but he refused saying he wouldn't leave his brother alone.
"Everything will be fine. He can't stay in there forever," Germany said one day, joining Italy on the couch.
Literature
HetaOni - Why?
HetaOni...
The world falls
Slowly crumbling away
Before my very eyes...
Yet time does not stand still
I'm still here
Stuck with That burden...
Losing all faith
Over and over
As I watch Them dissapear...
When will it stop?
Will it ever stop?
No one can tell me...
Drowning
Again and again
In Their blood and salty tears...
Slowly it ticks away
Taunting me
Till one's Last breath...
Yet it Will start over
Over and over
Why...
Am I emotionless?
Will I ever feel
Love, Joy, Happiness... Again?
Will I ever Share tears again?
But
I'm Glad...
That It's me...
And Not You.
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A poem I wrote in study hall in 7th grade.
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oh, oops, didn't mean to put that first 'can' in that lol