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About This Poem
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.
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