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mom poem

i am fevered
pushing out, struggling vainly
tripping up, falling down
royal feast was done
under dusky laurel leaf
still thirteen years
the swan existing
so fallen
thoughts through my head
never in all my life
for truth, for love
brother, i am fire
let us pity those who are better off than we are
i am weary of being bitter and weary of being wise

 



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