(WCW 1923) Beside the white chickens, it approaches, to become what it would always become reddened the wheelbarrow

in the rain upon which so much depended for so long a means to a song or a free measure you could call it a tribute to letters for it is a nameless and shapeless glaze watch how it glitters beneath your gaze, yet, while they are off making wars--you get me-Americans for sheer lust adventures many failed or were mistaken, and others were wretched no doubt, not me, A truth I am alive I am alive Love is Greater than the Shadow’s Decline

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