I seem to be loud, like a fire truck
rushing to a fire. But really I’m quiet,
like a cat running in alleys, thinking of
where to go.
I seem to be smart, like Einstein reading a book,
But really I’m like a toddler,
learning how to walk, going to and fro.
I seem to be brave, like a mayor
speaking out to the town. But really
I’m shy, and scared, like a piece of dust
in Chicago, looking for my parents.
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