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Back home all I saw was black. Now I have traveled and where is the black? To the lady in green holding her light proud, I wave and she waves back I have come to a land of fake, wack, lack but not black.
So rich in flavor, natural and raw It's no clue no one can withstand my Exploding, mouth-watering taste so pushed to the side They leave me a waste..  
I am 4 years old all pink dress, all blond hair, all blue eyes when strangers ask my name i tell them, that i am princess peach                                               
I went to the fair Hoping to make a find. Then I spotted a stand. It was one of a kind.   All kinds of good pies Were setting right there. Could I choose from them all?
  Bruised, unripe; I lay, weeping, imperfect and alone, the toy missing wheels. An unattained dream, fantasy, and hope, still sealed with putrid rubber cement.
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