I want to paint-

The taste of glazed, velvet strawberries entering my mouth,

Strawberry juice trickling down my oesophagus as I swallow it.


I want to paint-

The memory of me and my Grandpa playing in the busy, Saturday afternoon park

As people come and go, children laughing and playing and happily saying “Weee!”.


I want to paint-

The sound of children playing and jostling on the playground,

shouting and gossiping as the teacher blows the whistle.


I want to paint-

The distance between the start and the end of this poem.

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