Title: Optional

Text: Everyone has wings; they are there, tucked in their back, waiting to fly. Some are as golden as a wheat field, some as silver as the moon. They are all individual, unique, but they are all meant to do the same thing; soar. Up, so high, away from the crowd and the negativity and the chaos, just to fly, glinting in the newborn sky, daring others to fly too. Don't crumple or abuse your wings: don't leave them ignored. Just let them do what they do best. Each paragraph will be a test.

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