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funny poem

could we but know
though i am little as all little things
melancholy, blue it was
are you awake?
the saddest of the year
what was it the engines said
i fill this cup
when night drifts along the streets of the city
city that is not a city
we break the glass whose sacred wine
wrap the earth in cloudy weather
the single clenched fist lifted and ready
arched the flood

 



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