Grove
B
Barry Middleton
0
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was this some fantasy of youth
the blind and futile search for truth
I thought it hid with all my shoulds
remote from view in somber woods
so many times I swore to know
the mystic place where secrets grow
too soon to find the truth betrayed
by fear and doubt and cruel charade
for truth is darker than the copse
where hope and seeking finally stops
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