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acrostic poem

she limps with halting painful pace
two rows of cabbages
i sometimes wonder if it's really true
listen
i have heard that a certain princess
under dusky laurel leaf
let us express our baser passions
of sun nor stars
i know not where
in his guarded tent
i have come into the desert because my soul is athirst
often i think of the beautiful town
those on the top say they know you, earth-they are liars

 



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