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birthday poem

there are three ways in which men take
with lips blood red and heart of stone
a few more windy days
a mist was driving down
be patient, life, when love is at the gate
there's one that i once loved so much
do not grieve that it is over
since i have felt the sense of death
if it
the ancient songs
take my bracelets
my soul is a dark ploughed field
a thousand silent years ago
let us plant

 



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