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Word Impression Poem 2: Airling

Oh how fine it might be, But for a day or two, To be an airling again; Clean of conscience And innocent of what hurts I may have caused, For I'd never yet then Intended any of them. Age is wisdom, true. But it's also a tapestry of little guilts, Amid still littler expiations.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2012




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Book: Shattered Sighs