I think I must have been born tired and weathered and aged
A little girl three going on thirty they would say
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Big eyes, weary eyes,
The weight of the world
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Did I ever have the joy of naive
youthfulness?
Was I ever big eyes clueless innocent
blissful?
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Maybe I was born before I was, frozen in
time watching the world go by,
becoming
aging
and then I was born
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Big eyes heavy eyes
weight of the world
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poem and art by Jennifer van der Merwe
Love the poem , the collages and the photos