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The Child

Each mother hope lies In its child born to fly And touch the ambition sky Flapping the wings of success with each try. As charm of each child is everyone’s pride When it smiles with nothing to hide The innocence like serene dawn From its sleep while it happily yawns. So it is dear and superior Which has to brought up with care As the year around in the ground Soaring high the child could be found.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2018

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Date: 8/29/2018 2:30:00 AM
I like the sentiment of each child born to fly, and it is during sleep that they find themselves flying high, quite true, and well-written, Venkatesh.
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