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Poem 3
That girl-
I am reminded of that girl
when there are new leaves
on the trees
her long hairs, black eyes
and a bud of her heart.
Now her dream is like a dead bird
lying by the street,
her life- a desert
under a patch of cloud.
Tomorrow she will not be there.
yet I am reminded of that girl
when there are new leaves
on the trees!
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