Past My Lumen
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My past has became raisin,
Once it was pulpy grapes,
Sweet and sour mixed; dried,
Now seems so tasty; my pride,
I am enjoying with yesteryear's pain,
Enough it gave to me, made me human,
My poems are what; that's the gain,
I look back and write- past my lumen,
Bu şiiri puanla
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