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Pieces in my Pocket

If I traveled the whole world
And put pieces of it in my







pocket
What would I take?

I’d take the ability to ask questions
The steps to growing up
The bird’s eye view of New Zealand
First love without the aftertaste
The paint that tigers use
A slow clap intended for me
And a perfectly-planned rain.

Then people would mesh it together
Drive a cab over it
And call it Life.



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