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Five Years
It's been five years since I've been home
And nothing has changed
Mom still hasn't changed the locks
I can still pick my way in
With a spare bobby-pin
I can still jab a stick
Into the window
And shimmy myself inside
Without any hesitation
I can even still fit in Mocha's doggie door.
But for some reason, I decided to knock
When I knock on the front door
Mom opens it and looks at my face
Her eyes are tired and she sighs
Casting her gaze downtrodden
And then she closes the door and locks it
And I can hear her feet shuffling away
It's been five years
And still nothing has changed
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