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Take Off
April 22, 2016
Take off to the moon,
Bring seeds to grow plants.
Feeling sand beneath my feet
And getting my soup with a ladle.
While I swing past a missile.
Jumping on the moon,
Having fun in a boon.
No air, no oxygen
I’m invincible.
Soup ladles may carry on
But when I swing past a missile
I would have struck a plant of mine.
© Hoang P., Rochester, NY
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