I ran early in the morning
To catch a ball
That had stopped rolling
In the middle of the street. 

In my sleeping clothes
With just a sweater over me
And someone else’s shoes,
My hair, tied and flowing. 

It wasn’t that cold,
But it was. 
I said I wouldn’t, 
But I did.

I ran down the street
In my sleeping clothes
To get a ball
For a two year old boy. 

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