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Yellow Feathers
This poem isn’t about me,
Nor about an actual person.
It doesn’t contain anything alive,
As it doesn’t move around and breathe.
This poem isn’t about a mammal,
Nor about amphibians.
This certain thing is not just anywhere,
Nor in any shop or market.
This poem isn’t about something furless,
Nor about something that isn’t colorful.
This object has never left my side,
And never got lost.
It never frowns nor shows any emotion,
Whether I leave it behind or not.
I can’t and won’t give this object away,
And it will never leave my side.
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