Kathryn Byrne

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Best Poem of Kathryn Byrne


The glisting, white cold on a Christmas day.
Children will come to play.
If you do not allowed your child out then you are without a doubt
a very wicked person.
A child comes to play on your lawn and
If you make them go away you don't deserve
a lawn,
A child goes up to you and say 'I am cold, I am cold'
and you turn them away then you are a very wicked person.

Read the full of Children

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