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Inside I felt pain,

Pain like a nettle,

A nettle in the stomach,

In the stomach of friendship.

We were on the field

My friend and I.

Then we drifted apart,

Drifted apart forever.

I wanted to run back to the field,

Run back to my friend,

But my friend was gone

So my life went home.

Home to bed,

To cry away my sorrow,

Until I heard a voice,

The voice of my mother.

Her voice was comforting,

Like a massive, soft, armchair,

Snug and warm and concealing.

Concealing my loss of a friend,

That’s why I felt pain,

Pain like a nettle,

A nettle in the stomach,

In the stomach of friendship.

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