I remember how I cried as a child,
How we all cried,
And I laugh.

Walking around with our arms bent,
Our heads resting in the crooks of our elbows,
Belting out cow sounds,
Our mouths twisted
Into the most ridiculous shapes,
Thinking that our faces were hidden.

Our arms, already moist from sweat
Would become the most slippery things
After being washed by our tears,
And our faces would be the same.
A trip to the pipes took care of that.

And by the end of the day
Who would remember
What they were crying for anyway?

I remember the way I cried as a child,
And I laugh.

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