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Dada taught me cards.Sitting in his suit of pants and vest.A fistful of joker-red hair strewn across his brow.His big belly like a cannon ball.
When Harry went awayhe stole a part of Mum.No-one warned us. No-one said.We looked and looked for ages –
I spied a small lonely boy.I was his beautiful red balloon,from morning through to noon,