MY life is
neither a bed of roses
nor that one laid on hardest rocks
But it is streaming well
like a spring river
or winter's snow fall
not wishing to suffer a hell
during awful autumn's break
or in summer's hot kiosk.
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neither a bed of roses
nor that one laid on hardest rocks
But it is streaming well
like a spring river
or winter's snow fall
not wishing to suffer a hell
during awful autumn's break
or in summer's hot kiosk.
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