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| >> Static Item >> Poetry >> Biographical >> ID #130445 |
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Little girl, my little girl you were born, I wasn’t there. You walked, I wasn’t there. You talked, I wasn’t there You rode your bike, scraped your knee still no comfort came from me. No bedtime stories, no bedtime kisses empty dreams and your empty wishes. You call for me, still not there. Will I ever be there to wipe away your tears?
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