Poetic thought

Back within the year’s, I go admiring once again back to the summers of my boyhood.

There were cloths of many shades every piece was tiny like a scent in the air.

And I didn’t have a blanket and it was down the fall, momma tailored the excitement together stitching every part with love.

She made my blanket of many shades that I was so pleased of, perhaps she said this shell will bring good fluke and happiness.

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