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You've came into my Home on tip-toe, discreetly. Your words were not sounds, but bright letters, And yet a thin line of communications has been opened between us. A delightful little creature is born After our silent talk She is called Poetry. She now toddles and smiles searching around bright colors. The sounds, the beauty, the colors are her nourishment. It doesn't matter how far we are, The poetry will manage to join us Like a baby looking out with bright eyes. - | ||
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