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Line
The childhood at my
Like white stripe line
No worries no problem
Just tears from cuts and bruises
When fall from the tree
Or just fell from having fun.
The line never changed till
I changed along
Grow older bit wiser
The little white line
Was not so white anymore
Lots of different colours and shapes
Happier on the way.
Always hope to have magical chock
To erase and grow new who stays and newer changed.
© inita