Blowing Milk Bubbles

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You look up,

With that innocent eye,

at that white-filled cup,

Sitting on the counter at-your-hairline high...

at the time.


Someone you often saw,

assists your retrieval of what's up there,

and you immediately get a straw,

because into the milk you'd like to blow air.


In your breath goes into that straw so long,

rising a froth, rising a flurry,

but then you're told it's wrong.

"Just drink it and hurry."


"Oh don't forbid,"

says a voice nearby,

you always knew,

"It's just a kid.

I was like that too...

at the time."  



A/N: Thanks for reading the poems I've written so far! If you enjoyed them, feel free to vote on them. If not so much, then please drop a comment so I know what to do better next time. Thank you!

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