....and sometimes,
at nights
at nights the weather is crisp;
laying in bed without my pajama bottoms
the air is chill
my hair is short
atop a disheveled blanket
and some clothes,
my skin is bare
and my hair is cold
I like to pretend I'm in some dark
soaked place, in the forest by the water canal,
if I can find some cover
in the forest, it'll be warm
while the weather is crisp
and I can hide from the war
...and the animals around me i must protect
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