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Awake
Sometimes I find myself lost in the past
So desperate to relive precious days
Though beauty unaware seldom does last
Upon the thoughts my lonesome heart still prays
A paradise of peaceful sleep unstirred
Content with blinded sight and open heart
Kept me in a dream clouded and blurred
A dream from which I dread to fully part
Awoken from my slumber, soul adrift
Unsure with open eyes, my heart feels bare
To see so clearly hinders spirits’ lift
For I’m still holding on to past compare
Freed from this state of fruitless discontent
I may escape this life of self-torment
Last year our teacher assigned us a sonnet, so I wrote this about my mental and spiritual transition from middle to high school.