Hands

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On one hand, 

My life is arching 

over the hill, 

swooping up and down 

before disappearing into the pink sky. 

On the other hand, 

My life is broken. 

Parallel to a point, 

Almost connecting my past and future. 

I just missed, 

cut off. My fate is nonexistent. 

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Poem I wrote based on a prompt in my Creative Writing class.    

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