Lemon

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I sit on my front porch in the lemon-lightAnd watch the cyclist, with neat-skimming hair and a self-propelled wind,Zip by in a saturated streak.   The world is different, though nothing has changed.
We all know that sometimes life gives people sour lemons. Quite often people will suffer through the sour, but a few will take those lemons and turn them into sweet, refreshing lemonade. However, sometimes life gives out lemonade.
If I could bring anything, I would bring my edgy socks They breathe between who I am now and the steps I am taking to become They smoothen the edges I have formed around my insides  
I write because This Puerto Rican on Def Poetry Jam Told me about the county of Kings.
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