these little hands poem
These little hands may whine and cry a lot, but they never criticize me. All this was very long ago And I am grown; but yetThe hand that lured my slumber soI never can forget.
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These little hands may whine and cry a lot, but they never criticize me. All this was very long ago And I am grown; but yetThe hand that lured my slumber soI never can forget.