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poetry for kid

i love to steal awhile away
long ago, in the young moonlight
i am weary of being bitter and weary of being wise
star-dust and vaporous light
as evening falls
my soul goes clad in gorgeous things
up from the meadows rich with corn
burly, dozing humble-bee
is there anybody there
skies they were ashen and sober
sadly speaking
now that i have cooled to you

 



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