In the hands

That is an old poem Written by Aldo Kraas

My life

Is in the hands of my father

Because my father owns my life

And I don’t own my life

I plan how I must live my life

Every day

In the morning during the summer

I spend the days in the park

Also the beautiful sun is out

And when I am at the park walking

I also listen to birds singing there

Beautiful tune

That I enjoy listening to it