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Perfect
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School poems When you are born you are gods gift;
Nothing you do can make that shift.
Your perents made you and thay are glad and happy as could be;
You in there arms looking at them so joyful and free.
Your at home and you are exploring life at home for the first time;
You finally crawl anywhere you want and your silent as a mime.
You are a pure spirit untainted from the worlds ungly face;
Because your perfect, in your beutiful place.
