Read Prose_Poetry Poems
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Stained Windows
call me on the telephone, tell me now
how do i clean stained windows
scattered with perfumed tears
i searches every book and cranny for an answer
i lament, there is no help
stained with tears such beauty
running into colors, flowing intensely
who am i to guess how or why they got there
they tell a message
of that i am sure
as they cascade from one color to the next
i hold my breath
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