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Lifeblood MAG
A farm I used to know
Had oranges garlanded from bough to bough,
Birds would come and eat their fill,
For there would be enough for all
And more,
To give life to the still,
Which squeezed the lifeblood of them dry.
The "masika," monsoons, had come and gone,
Leaving in their wake
A tide of undesired bounty
Glistening like topaz, falling to the earth
In an aurora of dreams,
Springing right back up
Only to be brought right back down,
Into the lap of the Elysian Fields,
On a farm I used to know.
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