Sure she's faraway,
And I don't see her everyday.
But she's my favorite aunt,
And she's like a stuffed animal I really want.
She's like a best friend to me,
It's like she has a key,
And through me she can see,
Something troubling me.
Yet, she will always let me be.
We have great memories together.
And I'd be happy if she stayed with me forever.
I miss her a bunch,
And I'll always love her so much.
By Nicholas Gordon
Aunts are like the early morn:
Under clouds, a touch of rose.
Nor fresh breeze nor dew point knows
the secrets of a bright new dawn
so well as aunts, to brightness born.
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