[Sycamore has a feeling of blood in my veins, the steady pounding rhythm of our hearts moving with light and life]
Lilly was a little girl with colors in her soul
Lilly was a little girl who would brush the folds
Of her long hair
You see she really did care
That it didn’t just knot up everywhere
She would pick up her brush and without any fuss begin
Lilly’s sense of color carried out to everything
around her
To everything she thought about
The birds all flew around as if
They themselves were rainbows
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