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teen love poem

into the silent land
had he and i but met
i had over-prepared the event
night is dark, and the winter winds
the poets tell
stuff of the moon
shines the last age, the next with hope is seen
gingham dog and the calico cat
i make my shroud, but no one knows
see, from this counterfeit of him
birds against the april wind
be patient, life, when love is at the gate
risen from the dead

 



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