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May 2018
When the night comes, I hide

fears, sorrows, bad memories,

I wipe down tears and display children

colourful films

once milk has split

and there was a spot

our mum washed it a lot

and again there were dreams

and memories of good things

when the night comes again

I will unfold my magical power then
Written by
Anna Banasiak
118
     --- and PoetryJournal
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