CF

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​ When I was 5 I learned what real tears were My dad held my mom, her cheeks beating and tears streaming As an adolescent I couldn't tell what this fear was for
I am small and handy I attempt to assist when things get tough I am not a healer, only a tiny escape A little medic, round and pressured. Most of the time I waited, I rested in a dark bag until I was used.
You fought a war for almost 23 years
The sun went down, but I'm still here.    There's still a tube inside me.       My dinner tray is in the sink.          The whiteboard says my name. The thermostat reads "55"-- that's something
Each morning, the white sun rises over Jasper Street.         It peeks over the maple trees,                     it hides from cloud to cloud,
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