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def poetry jam

one sweetly solemn thought
perhaps
she was a beauty in the days
to come so soon to this imagined dark
sun stepped down from his golden throne
give me
what was it the engines said
sleep sweetly in your humble graves
i gazed upon the glorious sky
do not turn your head
three days i heard them grieve when i lay dead
when i looked into your eyes
i burn no incense
and how could you dream of meeting

 



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