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If there is a place where my father is,
And where my Mother shares his time,
That is where I want to be…
For I will forever for them pine.
But it is not of value to be sad
For such draws ridicule from the vain,
And if one chooses to be glad
Then the ridicule is the same.
Thus I’ll be silent and will weep
Inside myself where there is space,
Wherein no moron's spite can creep,
To stain loves ever gentle face.
Thus I shall be what ere I am...
And do in life the best I can.
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