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Amanda- Mom

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You sit in front of my mirror,
red mane and all,
flat ironing and
combing your fingers through.
Painstakingly, ever so slowly.
Not missing one strand.
I sit on my bed,
writers block in full,
thinking and grinning oh so wide.
I know you would laugh
if I told you,
but I just have this impulse
to say thank you.
Just for being here.
So thank you,
Mom.



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