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sad poem

my sorrow, when she's here with me
last night the full moon laid a cloth of white
high-born race
the darkness
on and on
he'd even have his joke
the sky
skies they were ashen and sober
i stood by the open casement
a thin gray shadow on the edge of thought
happiness
within my hand i hold
all those treasures that lie
in the cloud-gray mornings

 



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