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friendship poem

high-born race
i saw him once before
behold me, in my chiffon, gauze and tinsel
if i had known how narrow a prison is love
stern cold man
she was a beauty in the days
by the rude bridge
hang no wreath
softly weeping
all within and all without me
to be able to see every side of every question
i saw with open eyes
there are three ways in which men take

 



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