A poem.
My daughter is the careless edge ?
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Of smile I wear, a facial shrug that lays aside
The done and not. ?
She is the now of just ?
A minute, the stamping foot of childhood ?
That demands the ever present. ?
Her gift to me is simple: ?
She can dimple time, the way ?
Other children press a chocolate's center ?
To guess its flavor, ?
Laughing so hard that time capitulates. ?
There's a momentary crumple, it bends, ?
Rebounds, and I've gained ?
A second on the world.
Source: http://rss.csmonitor.com/~r/feeds/csm/~3/ADbHSavIQ5Y/Gaining-Time
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