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Snow Drops
You wear yourself a thorny crown,
and a robe of dandelions,
you skip and dance, across
the fields and drink the falling water.
You sing, you say, you sung--
the world years around.
Away, away, you wrung
the diamonds from the sky.
Your feet – like slats – slap
rhythmically against the weeds.
And your pale lips smear a
smile, and melt the fears away.
Anon, a dawn, tears across
your eyes. Another day, no
other sun, will ever alight
the lies. And suddenly--
the ground springs forth,
and you loose your dandies
and your thorny crown. And you
skip-skip away,
into the waking night.
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