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halloween poem for kid

softly now the light of day
why are the things that have no death
when night drifts along the streets of the city
blossoms of babies
over the river, on the hill
all those treasures that lie
desolate and lone
all my love for my sweet
darkest, strangest mystery
awful truths these be
the shadows of the ships
behold me, in my chiffon, gauze and tinsel
if it

 



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