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All you see is outside me: my painted smile,the rosy-posy shell, the fluttery eyes.A butter-won’t-melt-in-my-mouth-type me
The hidden garden we played in was bordered in red brick.Crenellations of a faded fort,ivy-scattered and wing-aged.A Victorian garden.
I spied a small lonely boy.I was his beautiful red balloon,from morning through to noon,
Why must we go to school, dad?Tell us, dear daddy, do.Give us your thoughts on this problem, please;No one knows better than you.