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Perennial
The backs of her hands wrinkle
with the wear of time
Dandelion feathers of a baby girl
thrive on in her mind
Skipping, sneering, sparkling,
her daughter tauntingly chimes
“One day, mother,
maybe one day.”
She gleams, prances, sashays away
Holding on to her light --
leaving nothing behind.
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This piece focuses on familial relationships and the feeling of disappointment.