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Please follow me Through the colors. Past shimmering glass And stacks of crayons.
The blue glass mirrors Puffy cotton balls. Scraggly arms reach high to the ball of fire.
Can you hear the drums? Flight of winged creatures. Soaring high above, too close to the fire.
Come closer and see What my minds has wrought. A scene near and dear. To my thoughts and dreams.
I could step into that scene.
Ron