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acrostic poem

a pen of steel
what do i owe to you
there are three ways in which men take
i bid them all farewell
see i give myself to you
my son is dead and i am going blind
looking beyond
a thousand silent years ago
softly now the light of day
all down the years
out of the window a sea of green trees
a poet, having taken the bridle off his tongue

 



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