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May 2016
By morning, darker bandages.

Against the white I'll remain blue.
A sobbing Lord offers a swifter kick.
Not a friend to the art. Nothing found in lies.
There was so much there to remove.

Find ourselves with darker bandages by morning.
My words shake in the pointed forest.
The harder we sail.
The harbor for friends of man.
Tragedy
Robert Carroll Spear
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Robert Carroll Spear  ...
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