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Trusses
What nights began at dawn
For the day is strained to
end with the setting of the
Sun
Lonely nights have women
To be less than perfect angels
Days eager end leaves her cold
Must these strangers have
Need for her company
Must strangers make mention
Of those nights
Whos whispers are darling
in companionship
might he who loves me
Say I have been a tramp
amongst the evening
might they say I am
a whore of the night
Copyright ©
Allan Terry
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