Creations
Pure and whole
Perfectly flawed
They laugh and play
Capering around my memory
Gallivanting through my mind
Playing with the words I relate
I wonder when the next will be born
On a misty morning
Or on the road home
Will it be in the middle of a maths test?
One can never be truly sure
I watch them grow
I develop them tenderly
Hoping for only the best
I know one day I will grow too old
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