Beauty Is Only Skin-deep
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Vibha Balaji, Grade 9
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Poetry
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2020
Silence,
A stitched tear with a sacred pulse
To anonymous: Half-me, half-you
Sorrow was the pen and I was the ink,
Mischief was the pin and I was the prick,
Anger was the death and I was the “accident”
Joy and I have parted
Now here comes the coda
It shall play a simple tune
One that not me but you can dance to
All the words that it may say
Is now is the time
Watch
ME
Demean
YOU