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footprint poem

gone are the three, those sisters rare
i loathed you
tripping up, falling down
pharaoh, king of egypt's land
all within and all without me
the air is full of dawn and spring
like him whose spirit in the blaze of noon
you say you love me
short and sweet, and we've come to the end of it
softly now the light of day
when a deed is done for freedom
why then, must we see?

 



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