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teen poetry

just as my fingers on these keys
they in the darkness gather and ask
i love to steal awhile away
the ships are lying in the bay
i bid them all farewell
to be able to see every side of every question
in an old chamber softly lit
at dawn, he said
very well, you liberals
let us plant
gaily through the fields we danced
truely
see, from this counterfeit of him

 



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