Sitting in the field
wind blowing on my face now
seems so long ago
always teased in school
I never knew how to cope
I felt so alone
my sancutary
that field was my home
hiding in tall grass
I never fit in
did not dress like the others
they called me bad things
the woods I played in
and in those trees I called home
no one could hurt me
we were very poor then
sometimes went without dinner
no one understood
today I look back
and not much has changed since then
but that field is gone
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