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Your grand dad
was very nice
he covered my philosophy

bother not of age
where when and why
keep at it till you go finally
ah die

if my grandfather
had not planted oranges
I wouldn't ever had tasted them

so plant till you die
don't feel shy
many will sigh
yet say
grand dad
good boy

Style / type: 
Free verse
Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Last few words: 
IN this verse don't converse its obverse gran dad is potentially I
Editing stage: 
Content level: 
Not Explicit Content


Dear L, I love your poem, but have some questions, for you to take or toss.I've pasted a strophe below for you to see what you think.

Your grand dad
was very nice
(very nice)
he covered my philosophy

I believe you mean "them" when you mention oranges in the plural?
All else is fine, no other nits, best wishes, Gracy

"My soul is painted like the wings of butterflies; fairy tales of yesterday will grow but never die, I can fly, my friends.” – Freddie Mercury

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