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Nov 2015
Hey, you Ghost.
I wish seeing through you meant I understood you.
But among the chills your touching sends,
I grow warm with unending stubbornness.
I grow old, I weep, I die.
But I will pull you away from dissipation.
O, I will stuff your frail form into my mind
And build you up.
You knew of unhappiness;
I will teach you love.
Written by
Eroshu Homaj  71
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