Zywa
Big heart
All beginnings are difficult, but
shall his heart grow with mine
and will not-matching sensitivities
be given a warm place anyway?
Can it be big like an elephant?
It already is, trumpets one
yeah ha ha ha, stamp the others
grandma Phant blows my hair in a mess
don't hold on to your questions
she says, better come with us
She trunks me between her ears
chatting about phants and people
with their peculiarities
we reach a wide field
of waving colours
The children phants start tasting them
crushing more flowers than they pick
but with love, new ones grow
you see, grandma Phant says
it's easy
if you give space to the sun
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