Greenhills Poems - Poems about Greenhills

...Memories In a box in an attic are my memories. They smell old and are yellowed; Fragile in aged hands as I hold them. Distant parts of me come back to life. I see a boy hitting a b......

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...' Me & my pal Ginsberg arrive in Poland, now more artisticly able from coffee-blood and sleep deprivation. I hear him say: "If you can speak your heart, speak, but make sure you do it with style; giv......

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