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romantic poetry

i stand in the cold gray weather
better than granite
brother, i am fire
to be able to see every side of every question
see i give myself to you
here falls no light
those on the top say they know you, earth-they are liars
somewhere i read a strange, old, rusty tale
be not false
just as my fingers on these keys
a gleam of gold in gloom and gray

 



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