You are the taste of a lolly,
sweet and warming
You are the distance,
of a sweet girl and a bully's voice
You are the smell of a orange,
sitting lonely on a teachers desk
You are a lost boot,
founed at the beach,
like a isolated flower
You are as,
slow as a slug,
as quick as a hair
and as quit as a flower growing
You are as bright,
as a twinkling star
You are in billericay,
sitting on a wet,
lonley day
You are the stars,
in the gorgeous night sky
You are the fox,
in the room of wolfs.
You are the emerald,
in the golden crown.
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