I"m from

March 25, 2011
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I’m from an old house
That’s losing its paint
Where there is warm hugs waiting
From old wood burning out back
From patches of soft green grass
But with old rotten fruits
With cold nights
Were theirs a broken AC
Were theirs chickens with one leg
From clear blues sky
I’m from fresh baked cakes
From creaking old wood floor
Were dogs are barking
While rosters crocking
Were theirs rusting metal
Where cold wet licks of dogs
While there is a worm hot sun
Of old rocking chair squeaking
When there’s an old wheelchair just there
That is where I’m from

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