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short poem

look back with longing eyes and know that i will follow
it was many and many a year ago
the smell of the rose so false, the thorns so true
i have come into the desert because my soul is athirst
take my bracelets
there was never a sound beside the wood but one
let me be sad
risen from the dead
lady, your heart has turned to dust
for then without
still thirteen years

 



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