To Be Me

November 8, 2010
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Red clay caked to her shoes from the valley beneath the mountains

The proof where her home really is

The princess of the castle covered in her grandmother’s jewelry

Enthralled into a world of her own

Scared, bewilderment from the inky blackness taking over the small foot

Where she ran outside without her shoes one time too many

The chef preparing her magnificent feast

Full of reds, oranges, yellows, and pinks

Those sandy trips where she ate the grit and turned a bright shade

Her white-blonde hair saved her countless times

From escaping her keeper

Camping excursions filled with caves and mountains

And home-cooked meals over the fire

The magic of stirring a pot was yet to be discovered

Her audience of animals that she shared her stories with

And her heart full of hopes and dreams

Bursting with love for her make believe world.

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