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african american poetry

tell me not
all within and all without me
gloom
why then, must we see?
i loved a woman
the smell of the rose so false, the thorns so true
she must go back, she said
world that changes under my hand
the agony of having too much power
braided and woven
the long resounding marble corridors
though love repine, and reason chafe
i have had one fear in my life

 



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