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Click hereTEENAGE EPIPHANY
And there was silence
In the hall
Ghosted by a million faces
At a locker
With a number
For the child without a name
The passing bell
That, silent, fell
Echoed into recesses left empty
By squeaking tennish shoes
And permanent marker
In restrooms without mirrors
At the edge
Skirting the boundaries
Of the eternal classroom.
- Heather Killough-Walden