Fifty Cents Poem by James McLain
Fifty Cents
I know food is scarce mother.
Here is fifty cents..fetch me a
cookie,
put this dough in the oven..ok?
Still milk is even so much more
scarce, you wast
much of it on it in all of this heat.
Feed the small ones these oats.
Here go play in the tub, it will
cool soon the store will open..ok?
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I would like to translate this poem
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4/25/2024 7:23:03 AM # 1.0.0.1119
iip.. ok? tis a bit about recess and a bit more about recessional... I like its worth... a lot...: ~)