Black Book Of Poems.

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If I met my seven year old self today,

What would I tell her, 

What would I say?

Would I warn her of the future, 

Of the bad things yet to come?

Or would I leave her be naive,

To keep having fun?

Because my seven year old self,

Believed the world a perfect place,

Would she recognise herself, 

When she looked into my face?

Even though I've learnt so much more,

And ten years have passed since then,

I would give up everything I have,

To view life through her eyes again..