High school:
A cacophony of deafening personalities,
Everyone racing,
Competing,
Fighting for individuality
In the midst of a war
That cannot end.
If we had nothing to battle,
What would we do
With our emerging identities?
In a symphony of adolescent instrumentals,
I am the piano,
Dancing quietly below the louder instruments,
Just soft enough to remain underneath their notes
But important enough that without me
The entire piece would...
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