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teen love poem

he's gone
up from the meadows rich with corn
little gate was reached at last
a storm is riding on the tide
those on the top say they know you, earth-they are liars
just now
made up of loveliness alone
sad are they who know not love
the poets tell
your body's motion is like music
melancholy, blue it was
i love the old melodious lays
the single clenched fist lifted and ready

 



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