His head a balloon
His arms made of timber
The redness in his cheeks
Was born to spill
All over this dull wooden floor
I stare closer.
And see his features
Unravelling
They twist
And turn
In ways
that even Picasso
Could not picture
Hesitantly
I inch forward
Until I feel
his glassy touch
So that he may watch
Me go home forever
Cultural confidence grows where kids see themselves reflected.
Mild discipline shapes choices better than harsh punishment.
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