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best friend poem

green afternoon serene and bright
our pleasant moments fly
out of me unworthy and unknown
my son is dead and i am going blind
as a white candle
i am old and blind
the hypocritic days
tell me less or tell me more
doubtless i remember still
babylon-where i go dreaming
i am weary of being bitter and weary of being wise
i know what you're going to say

 



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