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In grade five I wrote and essay About my favourite place I remember I lied To make the place better In my mind A bubbling brook With koi fish Hidden in the sun streaked shake I would sit on a rock And feed the koi It was actually a drainage ditch With mosquito larvae and spiders Skunk cabbage and spiny thistles that Made your skin burn at the touch We floated bathtub boats in the water Is it that when you’re young Bad things can be made okay? Did I have a good imagination Or was I a liar?
