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teen poems

they in the darkness gather and ask
what spiteful chance steals unawares
one by one, like leaves from a tree
when night drifts along the streets of the city
now while my lips are living
music i heard with you was more than music
often i think of the beautiful town
a few more windy days
softly now the light of day
friend, whose smile has come to be
i love my hour of wind and light
he's gone
since i have felt the sense of death

 



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