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Clouds

Not everything glitters,
it is something they fail to tell us
in childhood.
There lies in the everyday
a sullen hour,
when the magic fades
and clouds pass across my sky.
I dread this hour like a
finger in the door,
a stomach clenching fear.
It passes always,
with less fanfare than i expect.
I shake myself off,
pull sunshine back to my breast
and smile.

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