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Old July 16th, 2005, 05:36 PM  
Join Date: July 10, 2005
Default some untitaled poams


we will watch the northern lights
playing there game of ball
in the cold glistaning country
thene we will sit in the beuty on the mountin
and watch the small stars
in there sleepless flight


hope is the thing with feathers
that perches in the soul
and sings the tune whithought the words
and never stops at all
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