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Thank You, Mom
The rusty swings
on the mulch covered playground
are just so far away.
So I look to you
and you nod –
and tell me “it’s okay.”
The skirt I wear to the dance
is just way too short.
(I know by the way
you raise your eyebrows.)
But still I look,
and you heave a sigh –
and tell me “it’s okay.”
The path I choose
is far from you, and even though
you’ll cry every day
and the thought of chasing my dreams
makes my hands shake, my heart race,
you smile through the salty tears
and tell me “it’s okay.”
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