Childhood For Sale - Poem by Amy Marie
Cheap and charming items
Settle on the numerous tables
Of my grandparents' customary yard sale.
Bugs visit them all on this hot but vital weekend.
One object stands out in somewhat of a spotlight.
The item is a pink dollhouse full of memory-rooms.
Once I explored it with youthful eyes –
Now that type of immature play I despise.
If I could put a price on Childhood – what would it be?
A penny or two – at the most – three.
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