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Thank You, Mom
The rusty swings
 on the mulch covered playground
 are just so far away.
 So I look to you
 and you nod – 
 and tell me “it’s okay.”
 
 The skirt I wear to the dance
 is just way too short.
 (I know by the way
 you raise your eyebrows.)
 But still I look,
 and you heave a sigh – 
 and tell me “it’s okay.”
 
 The path I choose
 is far from you, and even though
 you’ll cry every day
 and the thought of chasing my dreams
 makes my hands shake, my heart race,
 you smile through the salty tears  
 and tell me “it’s okay.”

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