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Grown
December 14, 2023
All these faces I have grown to forget,
Were once the very people with whom I shared a trip.
Those who now have a baby lying in a bassinet,
Are who once asked me for a paperclip.
It is strange how quickly time will fly,
How soon the time will come to say goodbye.
I hope I feel no regret,
Watching the tears from my parents drip.
I tell them not to fret,
Letting them hold me in their grip.
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