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Gates of ivy and moss welcome me home
As I'm embraced by the loving tears of weeping...
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Going through my poems,
I wrote when I was young...
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You, my creation, my art,
you...
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music is to the mind what earth is to flowers
what you might find in April...
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The hero said to himself:
if I lie, if I stay silent, if I become one of...
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Can you hear the gentle murmur
Of the brook as it glides by...
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Stillness, akin to time immemorial,
A character of the past, a deplorable...
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I've seen you wonder at the storm inside my eyes...
How quickly I can change from sunny to dark skies...
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Who is vandalizing this bench
in the garden of my thoughts, my heartfelt words...
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I climbed the fire tower
like I did several years ago...
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When you look at your watch
you...
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When your love is not enough
I try to reach for more...