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teen poetry

i despise my friends more than you
my son is dead and i am going blind
i was a goddess ere the marble found me
the old songs
i am in love with high far-seeing places
they may talk of love in a cottage
i have to say good-night
who will be naming the wind
they in the darkness gather and ask
she limps with halting painful pace
i loved a woman
look back with longing eyes and know that i will follow
pushing out, struggling vainly

 



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