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def poetry

beneath my window in a city street
you are clear
very well, you liberals
no prey am i of poor thoughts
who is the runner in the skies
one sweetly solemn thought
while i stood listening, discreetly dumb
now while my lips are living
are you awake?
when i go back to earth
my son is dead and i am going blind
the darkness
who loves the rain
i see all human wits

 



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