What am I?

You  are  the  sound  of   people  crunching  an  apple.

You   are   the   smell  of   a  rotton   bananana in  a  teacher  poket.

You  are   the   taste   of    a   doughn

you    are   the    memory  of  a gramar

You    are  the      feel        of    air.

You     are   the    sight  of   happynise.

You     are     the    coldnes  of ice  sliping  through  the  sky and  fell  on  people.

you  are         the  flow   bag    going    cold.

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