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slam poetry

in the dark and peace of my final bed
from song and dream for ever gone
it tells of good old times
and as we walked the grass was faintly stirred
through the broad earth's aching breast
pushing out, struggling vainly
the fragrance came
master of human destinies am i
the mountains they are silent folk
at dawn, he said
when the veil from the eyes is lifted
in september

 



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