THE DEAD POETS SOCIETY
- LETTURE 227
- Voti 2
- Parti 10
The tapestry that I shred as I angrily walked into the room. I didn't know who I was anymore. Everyone I have known and loved has started to die, they started to fall to their knees and beg to be taken out before it's too late. I look to the sky, my mouth dryer than the desert sand and I ask "Everybody dies, but when will I?"
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