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Goodbye to a Nun
Avoiding the mockery of flowers
And cursing the sun in the sky,
I wonder why you had to turn your face from me
And our friendship had to die.
All the lonely, meaningless hours stretch ahead
And it makes me want to cry
That you couldn't be more personal
And give your Iron God the lie.
I curse the sarcastic sun
And the gaiety of flowers
And watch the little flame of faith you kindled flicker and die.
poem
by
John Thorkild Ellison
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