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acrostic poem

within my hand i hold
to be able to see every side of every question
the air is like a butterfly
i stood
i love my hour of wind and light
all those treasures that lie
musing, between the sunset and the dark
i walk down the garden paths
it is true that you say the gods are more use to you than fairies
by the rude bridge
often i think of the beautiful town

 



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