'Dear-What Was It
J
James McLain
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'Dear-What Was It'
The Daughter that we made, or the one that
chose to leap the ledge too fly away.
'Dear', I can't present, them here as kings to be,
what they aren't, some thief in the night, whom
comes and goes through my front door.
Even now I'm fraught, as I must be and even now
the blind can see what I am not, and boughs miles apart.
c.e.mc.
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