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mom poem

leave the lovely words unsaid
within this lowly grave a conqueror lies
beside a stricken field
once this soft turf
into the silent land
when, full of warm and eager love
though i am little as all little things
i saw god. do you doubt it?
he came and took me by the hand
let us plant
shines the last age, the next with hope is seen
do the boys and girls still go
some one complained to the master
if it

 



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