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def poetry

i am singing to you
under a spreading chestnut tree
i have cast the world
i shall see a star tonight
i said
i know what you're going to say
the smell of the rose so false, the thorns so true
before the solemn bronze saint
if i should die, think only this of me
a sky that has never known sun, moon or stars
i love my life, but not too well

 



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