I Took His Dreams
M
Margaret Widdemer
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I TOOK his dreams from him,
Boy-dreams of gold and red,
I gave him sorrows dim,
White grief, instead, . . .
And for a little space
Joy in my careless face.
I took his hope away,
Light hope, a foolish thing,
I gave him silence gray,
Death's comforting . . .
Was it my soul that sighed,
Dead on the day he died?
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