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Old Car
My dad loved that car.
It was old and I was young.
I got a scratch one day.
I almost drove away.
With that old car.
But then he would be sad.
But at least then…
He wouldn’t know.
Sadly, I did come home that day.
I ran away a year later.
With my own car, my own bags, my own money.
With my rusty car.
With scratches and dents all over.
I left my dad behind.
I left him with his car.
Copyright ©
Angelica Tao
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