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Current Affairs Arts 

Current Affairs

Racism is dead In their eyes but not in mine I will not forget I am dead inside But I continue to live To spite all of them Dear mom, I am sad ‘Cause of what my life became I want to improve Home was never here It was inside all along Living in our hearts I am not your doll I will not be soft for you I will not be yours By Depressed Asian

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Regression to the mean Arts 

Regression to the mean

Nothing is permanent, So why should my anxiety be?   Dark clouds are carried off by strong winds, Storms are drained dry, Hurricanes exist to self-destruct.   Every cloud’s fate is to dissipate, Every ray of sunshine dies out, Every mean is returned to.   Math was never my forte though, So how can I find the mean of my anxiety?   By Sophie Dufresne

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Inexistence  Arts 


There is a debate in society On whether or not I exist. Not on whether or not I should exist, Or on whether or not I deserve rights, But on whether or not I exist.   The sheer thought  Of the possibility  I might wake up tomorrow, To learn that I don’t exist, That I might unite with the void, Melt into nothingness, Have the memory of me erased from this planet, All because the conservatives emerged victorious from this debate, And the world must accept the harsh truth: “Everyone…

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Some Thoughts on Ancient History Arts 

Some Thoughts on Ancient History

My grandfather amidst An earthquake, A stone-hard marble pillar Of a man, Remains cold, always, Even to the touch; He holds up his end Of the fortress With clipped words, Riddled with hard edges That slip through the cracks Of a curled upper lip.   My grandfather amidst  The aftermath, Some stone-hard marble ruins Of a man, Remains still, always, Even when watched; He holds up his pieces Of the crumbling site With resonating silence, Amplified by a sense of finality That draws in the ears Of wandering pilgrims.  …

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The Dancer and the Hill Arts 

The Dancer and the Hill

Photo by Miguel Cano Gallo   The Dancer walked down the Hill with the perfect excuse of a fair taking place at the Village. He had never danced for people other than himself before; nonetheless, he was convinced that the Village shall have the right to see his body moving at the rhythm of the drums and the melody of the lutes. The Dancer found people on the road who would ask him: “Where are you going with those fancy clothes?” Innocent and arrogant he would answer: “To let others see…

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The man who lived Arts 

The man who lived

To all the people that died during this time of pandemic   The kettle was boiling in the kitchen, and Simon poured himself a cup of tea. Every morning, he drank from the same cup given by his sister, who had passed away. She was a wonderful girl; she always supported her younger brother in all his endeavors, often called, and worried about him. Unfortunately, she never had a family: she was a lawyer, loved her career, devoted all her time to work, and thought that everything was still ahead…

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Acquaintance Arts 


It seems like it’s been a while Since they last saw each other. They engage in small talk And, as sugar drips from their lips, They revel in its sweetness, Having forgotten the taste Of exchanging pleasant, Velvety words, Delivered softly, Smoothly Yet, crushed. By Fin  

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