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A Smile Summit True

A Smile Summit True Oh, the young do await the game; They put off ‘til the morrow, The weight of dreams to bear; They blunt the anguish and sorrow, Now; Draw near my sullen few; I’ll whisper in your ear: the neon Glow, the murmur low calls one On to chase it; yet such love Is lame; A dirty shame; Our scars will never show it, Yet, In heaven they all know it.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2008




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Book: Reflection on the Important Things