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grandma poem

a mist was driving down
do you hear the rain?
but alas, just dreams
if i had known how narrow a prison is love
shadows lay along broadway
all quiet along the potomac
though love repine, and reason chafe
in the dark and peace of my final bed
beautiful, tragical faces
the darkness steals the forms of all the queens
the little pitiful, worn, laughing faces
awful truths these be
all my love for my sweet
beautiful

 



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