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short poem

and my name is truthful
those black eyes i once so praised
up and down he goes
skies they were ashen and sober
last night the full moon laid a cloth of white
the pale day drowses on the western steep
eighty years have passed, and more
i have cast the world
some of the hurts you have cured
sad are they who know not love
i cannot always feel his greatness


 



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