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Gone Away
February 11, 2015
Bent to a point you just might break,
Tell me little lamb, how much can you take?
Seeing something you just can’t touch,
You start to grow taller, but is never enough.
Your face grows different, lines more fine,
Your face will still change over time.
The sweet little lamb has gone away,
You’re left with a sheep of black and gray.
© Zachary R., Philadelphia, PA
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