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sad poetry

the arches of the red bridge
since i have felt the sense of death
have you not heard
i saw with open eyes
a little peach in the orchard grew
do you think, my boy, when i put my arms around you
i bid them all farewell
this is the song of youth
with the sunset
but alas, just dreams
i said, i have shut my heart
he came and took me by the hand
eighty years have passed, and more

 



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