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Collection of C.S. Pritchard's Finest Poetry at Hand.
  • Reads 48
  • Votes 4
  • Parts 3
  • Time <5 mins
  • Reads 48
  • Votes 4
  • Parts 3
  • Time <5 mins
Ongoing, First published Jul 25, 2020
Here, the finest from Cian Si么n Pritchard. 14 years old, from the cost of North Wales. Here is my collection of my own work, any suggestions or comments would be appreciated, from the river bed' sweep to the low mountain mist! Thank you indeed! 

C.S. Pritchard
All Rights Reserved
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#30teenadventure
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Pinwheels and Dandelions by cjacks1124
177 parts Complete
I was kicked around like trash on the streets. I was the book that nobody could understand or read, but without a care, they were quick to rip out the pages. I screamed for attention, but time after time, I was ignored. Nobody noticed me, so I made myself at home in my own shadow. They say there's light at the end of the tunnel -- I searched and searched for it, but it could never be found. Therefore, I lost hope as I hid in the shade and endured what seemed like everlasting pain. The little hope I did have was snatched from my arms. My baby brother was my life, and they took my glimpse of hope away. Home. Is that a word? Maybe for a family of some kind, but for me, I never had a place to call home. I moved from place to place. Unstable foster care, fighting for my life in group homes, barely surviving in detention centers, and running away from being mistreated as I made many benches my temporary home. The only thing that I was familiar with was a black plastic bag containing my dirty rags. I am too young to know what it feels like to survive. These are the cards life has dealt me and I am not meant to win; however, I easily lose without trying. It is hard for me to find peace. I am paying for my mother's reckless actions. I am trapped in a world where the sun has died because I am unable to feel love. I am unable to dream. Sorrow is my aura, and the sadness hugs me. My eyes are closed shut by the barbed wire fence from my eyelashes as they prohibit tears from falling. I am damaged. When will the morning come? Did the sun put up a fight last night, like I do every single day? If I can survive the day, I know the sun isn't dead. One day, I will awake to a glorious sunrise. Until then, I hope my brother keeps blowing his pinwheel, and I will keep making wishes with every dandelion I come across. For now, all I know is that everything was taken from me, and the only thing I own is my name.
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33 parts Ongoing Mature

"I am sorry. I thought it would lessen your headache without medicine. Too many medicines are dangerous, and you eat too many. I am sorry. Please don't hit me! I won't repeat it. I am sorry." Amira just spoke without waiting, closing her eyes. "You regret helping me out or helping me out while I was sober?" She looked at Ali shocked, whose stern gaze was at her face. "I... I do not re... regret!" She stammered, feeling uneasy. He took an envelope and passed it to her. "Sign it and give it to me. I will submit it." Amira looked shocked at him. 鈹鈹鈹 鈰 鈭 鈭 鈽 嗉 鈽 鈭 鈰 鈰 鈹鈹鈹 A smile covered her lips while her heart was in a different situation. Another book reached its happily ever after. And then there's her, waiting for the phase of pain to end, where things start turning just right. 饾悁饾惁饾悽饾惈饾悮 饾悁饾悷饾惓饾悮饾惀 - Not perfect but beautiful. An introvert book lover, surrounded by silence and pain in the name of humans. 鈹鈹鈹 鈰 鈭 鈭 鈽 嗉 鈽 鈭 鈰 鈰 鈹鈹鈹 You may shut your lips tight and smile to hide what your heart wants to say, but your eyes don't fail to convey your words! 饾悁饾惀饾悽 饾悁饾悿饾悺饾惌饾悮饾惈 - Forced into a marriage he did not desire. Perfection with bad habits, he should be avoiding. Being the youngest son, he's pampered a lot.