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short friendship poem

i saw god. do you doubt it?
eighty years have passed, and more
and how could you dream of meeting
it tells of good old times
when you come tonight
the smell of the rose so false, the thorns so true
softly weeping
star-dust and vaporous light
night was black and drear
he speaks not well
along a river-side
they ask me where i've been
the stars fell from heaven

 



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