Not like a night light, who casts terrible shadows.
Deceptive and haunting.
Not like an overhead light, who is too hard to reach.
Distant and futile.
He likes to read books with me-
Books with lots of words and intricate pictures.
He loves to watch me draw-
He never lies about his opinion.
He lives on my bedside table,
plain and simple.
He sleeps when I sleep
and dreams when I dream.
When I need some clarity,
he is always there for me.
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