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Ode to my Number Two

My dearest number two
I love you very much
In your school house yellow
A dandelion feel

Through my nose and sinus
You return me to class
Second grade aroma
My dearest number two

Bring ideas to a point
Sharp or dull you contrast
My dearest number two
All angles can be seen

If you are ever wrong
My dearest number two
Nibble on your soft end
Then erase to a smear

Style / type: 
Free verse
Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Review Request (Direction): 
What did you think of my title?
Editing stage: 

Comments

the smell of pencils, chewing on erasers. so much relatable in this. I like how you have "my dearest number two" in each stanza. you might want to think of titling it that. nice poem.

that works great for the title! [ My Dearest Number Two] An "ode" doesn't always have to be titled "Ode to". It brought back the memories of setting at my desk in grade school, taking a test; even though they are decades old. I have grandchildren in school and in attending different functions, I still have flashbacks of those days, when I see those little desks, the blackboards and the hardwood floors. Great job! ~ Geezer.
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When you are writing for the Random Challenge!
Example: "I Need To Recharge" is prompt.
title is "Plugging In" It should appear this way:
"Plugging In" - Random Challenge/ I Need To Recharge

No 1 and No 2
had different meanings
I thought you knew
Never mind
the stalwarts understood you
you can't be a new comer can you

well welcome from all
a lovely ode to you

win your First Contest
happy be you
too

Sweet. Such nice memories of school when you were a child. I have similar ones, except my number two was nowhere around then. I imagine you mean your wife or girlfriend?
The smell of chalk, blackboard and erasers! My teachers were excellent and very strict. One had to write all errors at least 10 times. Compositions had to be re-written if they had many mistakes. And so on...
Enjoyed.

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"My soul is painted like the wings of butterflies; fairy tales of yesterday will grow but never die, I can fly, my friends.” – Freddie Mercury

Mark full marks well done

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