Jul 22, 2009 09:01
Holding onto dear life, I tighten my grip on the remaining piece of wood I could hold onto. The other arm had given up and is tremendously weighing me down.
I am slipping away. Like how people desperately grasp any tangible material that could prevent their collision with the cold, hard ground as they fall, I am falling from the edges of the see-saw of school life.
Coming soon: Change of mentality
reflection