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birthday poetry

melancholy, blue it was
this is the song of youth
she said
see i give myself to you
i love to steal awhile away
you are clear
passing through huddled and ugly walls
music i heard with you was more than music
uplifting, as the wind blew
which i wish to remark
love me at last, or if you will not
there are three ways in which men take
i saw the first pear
i saw god. do you doubt it?

 



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