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son poem

there is no escape by the river
above them all, looking down
i loathed you
a gleam of gold in gloom and gray
evidenced in the glimmer in your eyes
to the passionate lover
this is the ship of pearl
hang no wreath
and as we walked the grass was faintly stirred
i've won the race
mysterious night
i have cast the world
their beautiful hair
if it

 



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