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friend poem

when freedom from her mountain height
the agony of having too much power
the shadows of the ships
grieve not for the invisible
sad are they who know not love
short and sweet, and we've come to the end of it
the old west, the old time
if it
noises that strive to tear
rising moon has hid the stars
look out upon the stars, my love
be patient, life, when love is at the gate

 



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