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A Child's Perspective
The world’s their playground,
The trees meant for climbing,
The fields for running around.
Leaves whisper under their feet as they run,
The notice all the things we don’t notice,
Their innocence makes them fun.
They use the world to create,
Their imagination never runs out,
It’s an endless space in their mind.
The coldness of the wriggly worms as we dig,
The dirt caking our nails and fingers,
The leaves rush past us, getting caught on our clothes and hair.
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