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In my palm it is mere powder Soft and silky White like snow. But in my veins It is harsh and aggressive, It burns like a wild fire, Day and night I get encroached By it's haughtiness.
Lately I've been feeling like alphabet soup,Well, alphabet spaghettios because those taste better. Out of all the types of spaghettios, The ones with meatballs, franks, less sodium,I chose alphabet noodles. 
A small town near the ocean is what I first called home.I remember my mother, my sisters, and my father.I remember the laughter & cheer, the fights & tears.I remember father.
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