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Growing
I began in the beginning
in my mother's womb.
What was it like?
Like a warm happy room
But they soon squeezed me out of there.
They said she's cute but not much hair.
And I began to grow and grow.
There wasn't anything I didn't know
but they beat it out of me.
They didn't like what they could see
reflected in my eyes.
I was too young and yet too wise.
They tried to fill me up with lies
and yet somehow I knew.
Just what I knew
I do not know
for I forget more
the more I grow.
But this I know
its lies
Its lies.
There's hollowness behind their eyes.
They fill us up with lies.
They make us grow foolish
though we were born wise.
poem
by
Gillian Commerford
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