masterthe wind blowing this morning accidentallyMy teacher of white silver hair suddenly foundkeep telling myself that it's the chalk dustthat stars look pleasing not tempered by pinkyhow the year? How long have openings? master!classroom games to go, while the teacher to stayIt is these rowing Cretaceous parkand the master is the person who put that introspectionfor our futureOh please don't stop time driftingfor we stand idly againcall the master with all believe in love
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