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mom poem

lo! 'tis a gala night
i am dying
do not grieve that it is over
i stand in the cold gray weather
their beautiful hair
i love to steal awhile away
stern cold man
the stars fell from heaven
thoughts through my head
what spiteful chance steals unawares
a very remarkable history this is
be not angry with me
are you awake?
white foam flower, red flame flower

 



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