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A Gift to Every Dreamer

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You rise with every sun, on every day,
With open arms, across the Earth to sprint.
A finer miracle of flesh and blood
Has never flown his flag or left his print.
 
In every corner of every crowd there is plot
For such a seed of better things as thee,
With tousled curls and gentle, steadying arms,
And a face so full of fun and fantasy.




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