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teen poetry

and still they walked on
take my bracelets
o fair and stately maid, whose eyes
i saw the archangels in my apple-tree last night
did you ever see an alligator
i am old and blind
why are the things that have no death
i know not where
mid pleasures and palaces though we may roam
in september
my son is dead and i am going blind
why then, must we see?

 



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