Poem: Petals of a Sweet Pea
Pressed between the pages of my memory
The petals of my childhood
Preserved that one day I may open to read the book,
That made me who I am today.
Written spontaneously,
riddled with mistakes.
This unfinished literature is a peculiar mystery.
The petals of my childhood
Preserved that one day I may open to read the book,
That made me who I am today.
Written spontaneously,
riddled with mistakes.
This unfinished literature is a peculiar mystery.
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