Mr... With The Child... Poem by Maria Barbara Korynt

Mr with the kid on the hand, should look agreeably, but he
looks, as the moron bad, tired out which is waiting, that fast
to put the kid into other hands.

Mr is anxious because nobody is coming. Mr is getting mad,
because minutes are flyings, as flies, as moths to the lamp,
and we... aren't after the name, and...

hide your dirty claws, and you wait for other man, would-be
nanny said, because she didn't withstand half an hour with the
fool, under the roof.

Don't be anxious, write poems - was recommended for
him by guest, in the white apron. doctor veterinary.
was cheaper, but weak medicine.

Therefore Mr with the child on the hand,
this way are anxious...