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I wanted to write a poem about the incredibly long (and super productive) day I had. I wrote two and they were both pretty awful. I'm going to stick to it though, maybe I'll come up with something later. Poetry seems to be a moody thing for me. Anyway, I don't want to disappoint you after all that build-up, so here is a poem I wrote a really long time ago ...

Where does the sidewalk end?

What would you say if someone asked you where the sidewalk ended?

A grown-up would say:
"Down the road
around the bend
across the lane
and through the field
to right in front of
the great white church
that's where the sidewalk ends."

But if you asked me, a child of course,
my reply would be
quite simple and short:
"The sidewalk ends where I can't draw
with chalk anymore."