Scraped Knees

the grass flowed with the breeze

rubbing off green on my scraped knees

the scratches itched and burned

but so did the sun I later learned

it lingered in red blotches on my face

and eased up my arms with grace

you saw me later all burned and torn

brought me into a hug without scorn

as I buried my head into your shirt

it felt as if id never hurt

This poem is about: 
Me

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