I have a mask,
Hidden in my pocket.
I have an aviator,
Deep inside my bag.
I have a pull over,
Wind speaks to my chest.
I have a head-ache
And it's unsafe to say,
I have a face,
That I wear everyday.
What is life but a series of exodi - A child's birth from a safe, nurturing womb A boy learning to walk by himself A young man yearning ...
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