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A Gentle Breeze Knocks the Grass
A gentle breeze knocks the grass
Off its partnered to the sand.
A stranger walks to the shore
From the land of forgotten memories.
Tell me more, oh, Tell me more.
You won’t, I won’t.
It goes unsaid.
Memories of a time when innocence was common
When the faint of heart were not forsaken
When difference was trivial.
The glassiness of his eyes give away his nonchalant
Waves crash down, he steps with the most kindness
To natural beauty.
A women, with innocence in her hair and eyes.
He touches her, she doesn’t contest him. She likes it.
When will the day be finished.
When will I know the end.
When men can rest and children can play.
Never will it come again, until the day when men
Share love.
poem
by
Christian Allen
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