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Third Person
She cowers from dad’s shrill accusations
Hunched over in a most penitent way
Next comes mom’s feeble justifications
Such as “Oh he’s only had a bad day”
She’s done with this nonsense and makes a choice
From this broken household she’ll promptly flee
In search of a place where they’ll hear her voice
Not just a pathetic and broken plea
The day soon comes and she prepares her bag
Trying to keep every issue in mind
But soon comes upon a pretty big snag
That she left her identity behind
She had forgotten a chunk of her strife
The fact that she is me, this is my life
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