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good bye poem

in halls of sleep you wandered by
there was a strangeness on your lips
skies they were ashen and sober
there is a city, builded by no hand
blossoms of babies
beside a stricken field
this is the song of youth
happiness
the dawn was apple-green
three days i heard them grieve when i lay dead
the old songs
stay no more
i see all human wits

 



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