Abraham Lincoln

abraham ass i bwill call him was a good wrestler a good person he was rarlly seen without an ax he chpped trees he split wood he made stakes  for fences this was a poem he wrote he also was a good poem est                                                                       my childhoods home i see again and sadden with the view and still memory crowds my brain there's  pleasure in it to o memory thou midway world twixt erth and paradice where things decayed and loved wons lost in dreamy shadows rise and freed  from all that earthy vile seems hallowed peru and bright like scenes in some enchanted isleall bathed in liqued light                                   the end