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christmas poem

melancholy, blue it was
see, they return
often is it not so?
uplifting, as the wind blew
sitting in his rocker waiting for your tea
perhaps
let us pity those who are better off than we are
my soul goes clad in gorgeous things
day is done
the child who threw away leaf after leaf
our pleasant moments fly
when you come tonight
this is the song of youth
i know what you're going to say

 



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