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At My House
Growing up at my house, The food portions weren't limited, and either was the self-pity. We were taught how to live in standards that were secondary. and how to stay where we weren't happy. We were shown how to hide from the world. If we had chosen only to exist we had permission. minimalism was accepted, and at times expected. Goals were something snobs had, Allowances for spoiled kids, University for the arrogant, Vacations for the extravagant, and nice restaurants for the frivolous. So we sat at home, With another half dozen cookies In front of us, as mom baked more.
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