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Apr 2011
Her bedroom will be pink
A paint I dislike,  It will be her pride
A bear sits in the corner
Brown eyes set on the floor
Its thoughts hang, she can hear
She says it runs when she’s away

She asks me to be abstract
Her wings reaching up
My own monarch yearning
To color where she flies
β€œYou never were a caterpillar,”
A soft laugh in the sunlight
I hope she remembers
Written by
Rebekah Lynn H
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