Poem -

7

7
I was 7.Ā 
I remember clearly, because the crispy air of the Romanian winter froze my lungs from the inside out.Ā 

I was 7, and innocent.Ā 
Happy. Content. Glad to be alive.Ā 
My mind filled with ecstasy.Ā 
Who - who in the world would have thought that this would happen to me?
When did every cell in my body turn to the dark side?Ā 

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