The Days Of Childhood Hours

The days of my childhood hours;
Was not the same as others saws;
never meant What others were;
I could not bring my passion;
from the common spring;
I watched myself;
Thou it was all same;
Taking my laughter;
for a jolly ride;
I threw the tantrum of
my childhood glide;
I worked to wake up;
from the sorrow knife;
And never the same as I walked;
My heart was loved;
of my lonely thoughts;
As I shoved into the clouds;
While resting in heaven;
of my thoughts;
I acknowledged the demons
of my childhood hours;


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