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Colors by Sam |
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| To hear Sam read this poem, click here. | ||
![]() As you take the color so bright As you let down the crayon... It explodes on the paper like a bomb Not leaving black and white ashes, But every thing was in color. You can hear the scratchy sound Of the crayon on the desk like a mouse Running across the floor Back and forth, back and forth. Then the picture is done. It's like a new world. |
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