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■ The oak
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It's fun sometimes to believe in love -
And every time I look at children It makes me believe. Children are innocence (besides squishy cushions thrown at little sister) Smiles, open wide eyes! They give you sticky toys, or cookies wet and half eaten. Handing me a red, purplish-green, yellow-kissed drawing, They wait, asking for no more than a happy grin, my free, unbridled joy. It's hard to forget Their bursting smiles, The sunshine in their lips, Unforgettable tight hugs. You angels of mankind - Don't ever grow up.
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