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I Miss My Innocence
I miss my swing, I miss my whip,
I miss my mother's grip,
my dirty hands and my soiled feet
my filthy face, my innocence.
I miss the way i used my slipper,
the incorrect way of wearing my t-shirt
I miss my friends and their sweet grins,
the way we talk and brag,
I miss the places where we used to play-
I miss my childish years yeah!
i miss my innocence.
poem
by
Jr. Cuyam
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