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sympathy poem

the old west, the old time
softly weeping
if i were very sure
she was a beauty in the days
there was a strangeness on your lips
the darkness rolls upward
out of the window a sea of green trees
looking beyond
there by the window in the old house
in and of itself
beneath the warrior's helm
the agony of having too much power
i wonder where you live

 



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