Here I will focus the writing on poetry and commentary.

I stood in the stairwell,

on the rise so I felt safe.

Kids walked past me,

I froze in the corner.

My shoulders tapped walls,

cold tile was my security.

I knew faces, passing smiles.

Eyes went by with vacancy.

If I could return years later,

the same boy, less tiresome.

Perhaps then might my life begin.

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