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The poetry of a young, aspiring writer. My own poetry. Not all of it is rhyming, and it is of many genres.
As the sun slowly fell asleep, it made the sky its own canvas.
The sky was filled with colors jumping onto all the clouds, their dull white fading into bright purple, pink, orange and yellow.
The light started fading, as the sky turned darker. Those colors fading into gray as the sun slept, the moon taking its place, as it surrounded itself in a pool of stars.
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