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What am I?

You are the sound of thunder in the midle of the night, keeping me awake.

You are the smell of pancakes burning,

You are the taste of six woffles.

You are the memory of a bulls dark red eye.

You are the sight of a flickaring light.

You are the feel of a velvety cusion soft under my hand.

You are the smell of fish and chips making me hungry.

You are the sound of a trumpet.

You are the taste of spicy hot sauce.

You are the memory of Autamn leaves changing .

You are seasons changing slowly threw the year.

You are the begening of a babys life.

You are 10 sausage”s sizling in a pan ready to be eaten.

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