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My cave inventory
My grandmother is my torch
Lighting a path for me when life gets dark
My father is my pickaxe
Reliable and valuable for many different reasons
My mother is my helmet
Protective and hard-headed
My sister is my map
Guiding me when I feel lost
My brother is my backpack
Full of many different surprises
These people are my cave supplies
The gadgets that keep me alive
The reasons I am able to strive
Inside of this dark cave
That we must all survive
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This is my second attempt at writing a poem.