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child poetry

what do i owe to you
the smell of the rose so false, the thorns so true
for truth, for love
that year
burly, dozing humble-bee
is there anybody there
those on the top say they know you, earth-they are liars
i saw you hunched and shivering on the stones
perhaps it is no matter that you died
from song and dream for ever gone
look back with longing eyes and know that i will follow
sun and wind and beat of sea

 



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