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Liz Discussion started by Liz 2 months ago
Dear mother said the little fish pray is that not a fly.Im feeling very hungry I like to go and try.My dear sweet child the mother cried and started from her nook.That horrid fly has put to hide the sharpness of a hook.I can but give one little pluck let’s see and so i will and on he went and low it stuck right through his little gill.And as he faint and fainter grew with hollow voice he cried dear mother had imheeded you I need not now have died.
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adovise1
adovise1 that is nice liz and sort of sad. do add more poems to this group 2 months ago
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