There are children, O so sweet,
Playing hopscotch in the street,
Figures of worth and substance,
Priceless gems of innocence.
Playing is their daytime work,
Chores they must not ever shirk,
Reads to build literacy,
Studies that steer legacy.
Should be sheltered from fear,
That causes bad nightmares so drear,
Little minds struggling hard to find,
Resolves to doubts in their minds.
Pressures amongst their age...
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