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teenage love poem

in new york harbor
love me at last, or if you will not
daughters of time
out of the deep and the dark
the stars fell from heaven
often is it not so?
when, full of warm and eager love
for then without
have you not heard
i have seen the proudest stars
the smell of the rose so false, the thorns so true
as evening falls
there's one that i once loved so much
do not turn your head

 



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