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Glass Box In Vision Poetry

Glass Box In Vision – Part 3

I wilt and I thin
For glassier days,
Of insects on the playground.
Sun scorched tarmac
Warm to my heart,
My golden childhood crowned.

The valleys of grey
Beckon me on
To the snow and deep stiring streams.
But gone are the days
Of daisy flood hills
Left in the oakend and ashen dreams.

This power of attorney lays down my life,
Thus, my life I must lay down too.
Gone,

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