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teen love poem

the saddest of the year
simplicity
our pleasant moments fly
when i returned at sunset
i shake my hair in the wind of morning
i have heard that a certain princess
backward, turn backward
somewhere i read a strange, old, rusty tale
glooms of the live-oaks
those on the top say they know you, earth-they are liars
as i lie roofed in, screened in

 



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