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Tearful Days
My eyes have become as languid
As wintry leafless trees
Shivering in the drifting snow.
Tearful days have reduced me
To a ghost stranger
That no one any longer knows.
To be enamored of wrists,
Perfumed and delicate,
But of which you never kiss,
Encages the heart in sorrow.
The fading sun of a dying evening
Ushers in a lonely dusk,
There is no one with these feelings
For whom I now can trust.
poem
by
Uriah Hamilton
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