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child poem

master of human destinies am i
white foam flower, red flame flower
desolate and lone
sitting in his rocker waiting for your tea
i despise my friends more than you
i stood by the open casement
let us pity those who are better off than we are
that strange companion came on shuffling feet
my soul goes clad in gorgeous things
we lay
good woman
the pale day drowses on the western steep
why do
roses and gold

 



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