My poetry :The child has not learned to count money
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The child has not learned to count money
While playing around the house
I call him happy,
No one is happier than him.
Every day of childhood sank into the sea of time
Want a diver finds the memory,
At the end of the stormy, the rain stops
Can we forget to pick mangoes together!
I think about all that all afternoon
How precious are those golden days!
Today I understand that I crossed the line,
I know it will not return to me
So sometimes the river fills with tears.
The old relatives have faded
Where can I get a touch of affection of them
Today I understand the need for real friendship,
I am a great hater of trending false love.
Your words are precious, golden day are important
thanks