Poem 6

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I feel like a mixture of soap and water turned into a bubble.
So delicate!
Even faint wind can bring my demise.

I ask what do bubbles think when they float in thin air?
How delicate!
is there an urge to just pop and drop?

I think as a bubble when I float freely without a care.
I'm delicate.
Then faint wind blows, I pop and drop.

I'm again a mixture of soap and water.
I no longer wish to fly and be delicate.
I just want to be settled and cared for.

照実

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