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These Are Different Days
These are different days
Where the individual soul
Is left alone to wither and decay.
Once there were golden friendships
That weathered every storm
And violent tempest,
There was a spiritual bond
Impossible to break.
And if a friend departed for God,
One would find his child and weep
Saying, “The son of my friend! ”
These are different days,
I light candles at dusk
And entertain lonely spirits.
poem
by
Uriah Hamilton
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