bittersweet pain
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I have a simple question to ask first to my mother,
when you look up at the stars, what do you see?
Do you think of yourself?
Just as I think of myself?
A song I sing that would make no sense/As a song/Couldn't control the feelings inside/So a piece of paper I hoped would provide/ I write my words like a toddler walking/ Slowly, slowly stumbling/ Soon I gain speed and rhyme/ The world looks differ