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family poetry

risen from the dead
my true love from her pillow rose
to the passionate lover
have you not heard
let us plant
if the red slayer think he slays
these hearts were woven of human joys and cares
stand here by my side
in the dark and peace of my final bed
storm
with the meek, brown eyes
how shall i help to right the world that is going wrong
let us pity those who are better off than we are

 



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