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christmas poetry

passing through huddled and ugly walls
i do not pray for peace
in may
he's gone
we were not many
the rain was over, and the brilliant air
simply speaking
i despise my friends more than you
leave the lovely words unsaid
brother, i am fire
and with the humming bird
which keeps
my soul is a dark ploughed field
i was a goddess ere the marble found me

 



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