Where does that closed door go?
It mocks me, a small child,
my parents inside. They tell me
they are sleeping when I know
...
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they are awake. These sounds I hear are as indescript as any child can possibly imagine. Imagine this, little one, you are all grown up in a small world of infinite twisting: Lies, they..... the way you write is not a funny way to keep us.... really you can make words more efectyively and hitting the morale
like this says so much and so easy to relate to the hidden world of the grown up