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grandma poem

i expect you
i can not tell you now
passing through huddled and ugly walls
day is done
rising moon has hid the stars
last midnight
be in me as the eternal moods
for then without
among the smoke and fog of a december afternoon
to be able to see every side of every question
let me move slowly through the street
the hypocritic days
afraid no more, i say

 



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