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About This Poem
except from The Petrified Forest
As a child I sat quietly
As I was told, as small as I was suppose to be,
The grown ups talking of money, sports, engagement rings.
But I grew bored, my small brain wandered, not understanding such important
things.
And my mind drifted to childish matters and I started to cry
With the memory and thought of what I’d seen and the death of a dragonfly.
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