Winifred Booth

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The Past

The shadows and cobwebs, of bygone days,
Little urchins, living their ways.
Their faces all grubby, and eyes full of tears,
They looked much older, than their years.


Gazing out of my window,
My heart filled, with a warm glow.
For Birds were there, on the Trees,
Swaying gently in the Breeze.

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