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sad poem

and breaketh bread no more
some of the hurts you have cured
arched the flood
shines the last age, the next with hope is seen
do you think, my boy, when i put my arms around you
awful truths these be
last night the full moon laid a cloth of white
grieve not for the invisible
world that changes under my hand
do not turn your head
i reside at table mountain
why so sad my lovely one?
look out upon the stars, my love

 



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