My Pines Of Birth
Pines, my native line and birth
From you I came without a dearth
Pines, I shall call you with mirth
To you I return with my vision to unearth
Returning with unearthly wealth
Simple works I offer, not burn
Honor is yours, over my urn.
Toils are not made to harden one's feelings
Or break a heart of stone that churn
Rather to soften outer peelings.
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