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As I grew up my dreams grew small
made cool and polished and polite
for they first faced a blank white wall.
As I grew up my dreams grew small.
Wall covered skies and skylark’s call
then bricks built inward, out of sight.
As I grew up my dreams grew small
made cool and polished and polite.
Glenn Bagshaw
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-triolet-a-domestic-from-the-third-world/
