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short poem

pushing out, struggling vainly
to some the fat gods
three days i heard them grieve when i lay dead
softly now the light of day
who loves the rain
it was the autumn of the year
i made a vow once, one only
do not grieve that it is over
to be able to see every side of every question
made up of loveliness alone
our pleasant moments fly
for truth, for love

 



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