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halloween poem

the agony of having too much power
friend, whose smile has come to be
what spiteful chance steals unawares
from our hidden places
in your flight
leave the lovely words unsaid
be patient, life, when love is at the gate
why are the things that have no death
a mist was driving down
mid pleasures and palaces though we may roam
still her gray rocks tower above the sea
up and down he goes
could we but know
she was a beauty in the days

 



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