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teenage love poem

those on the top say they know you, earth-they are liars
passing through huddled and ugly walls
sweet with fern and rose
sing again the song you sung
up from the meadows rich with corn
for i was a gaunt, grave councillor
i love to steal awhile away
some of the hurts you have cured
if it
awful truths these be
i cannot always feel his greatness

 



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