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christmas poetry

darkest, strangest mystery
from song and dream for ever gone
when i returned at sunset
friend, whose smile has come to be
like eagles on up high
in all things not spoken of
i make my shroud, but no one knows
the hypocritic days
who is the runner in the skies
musing, between the sunset and the dark
i went up and down the streets
sadly speaking
i saw with open eyes
he'd even have his joke

 



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