another poem
Reflections of the past
When the Tepid winds are blowing
My thoughts grow chilled and knowing
With many a thought of the coming
And the past that is a nothing
But a long and lingering thought
Of that which is remenicing
Of that which I am missing
Of the forgotten days of yore
And many old tales of lore
Of many a hidden trove
Of many a tale of love
When the cold winds blowing
And when they were knowing
Of their tragic ends rove
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I'm not a freak on a leash, I'm just the freak holding the leash.
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