NOTE: THIS POEM WAS PUBLISHED AS PART OF THE LETTERS FROM THE SOUL SERIES BY THE INTERNATIONAL LIBRARY OF POETRY.
I am nine years old.
I am not a piece of mold.
I cannot fly,
and sometimes I cry.
I am on a diet.
I will not deny it.
I have a cat,
and I own a bat.
Sometimes I'm mad,
sometimes I'm sad,
but I am a lad.
I am nine years old,
and sometimes I get cold.
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