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Against the World
To him,
A is red,
the number 3, blue.
To him, needles bore out his fear,
and blood is death.
To him,
mom doesn't exist
and father means wounds.
To me,
A and 3,
is the color of the tool.
To me,
needles are a demise,
but blood is captivating.
To me,
mom is real,
but father is fake.
To us,
life's demanding,
but worth everything we have.
To us,
the world is great,
but we can take it on.
I'll carry his burdens.
I know he'll carry mine.
We can make it through the world.
If we go against the world.
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