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missing you poem

be patient, life, when love is at the gate
when night drifts along the streets of the city
to some the fat gods
in an old chamber softly lit
i have to say good-night
a few more windy days
the body may confine
brother, i am fire
tell me
these hearts were woven of human joys and cares
darkest, strangest mystery
though love repine, and reason chafe
i loathed you

 



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