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by Boddah
Rated: ASR · Poetry · Cultural · #1574263
As a preteen, I had feelings of resentment towards how things change over time.
Gift-wrapped Jesus
Bleeding under the tree.
Bright lights flashing
We run around with glee.

Feeling uninspired,
Now I'm old and tired.

Weird.
Everything finally clear.

Dice they toss.
I too climb my cross.
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