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A Little Fart
27 May, 2002
Author: Don Fraser

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Right from the start,
When I was,
A little fart.

Some kids never bother,
But me,
I worshiped my Father.

On the top is the cream,
My Father was,
Every boy’s dream.

He never played ball,
But as a Father,
He gave his all.

He was sick for most of his life,
He had more than his share,
Of strife.

At the end,
Still he was,
My friend.

I miss him to this day,
If he were here,
We would play.

He was young when he died.
Myself and my,
Family cried.

He has been gone for years,
To this day,
I shed tears.

Dad if you can hear me.
Please understand my plea,
Please Dad, come back to me.

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