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Mar 2010
Stand tall, dark and peaceful Night;
fall not into the open arms
of the distant fading light,
for, like the sun, alarms
are, too, destined to set.
But instead, March on
through fields of dancing, green,
endless shamrock silhouette,
where the beds of dirt they rest upon
are, in waking, always the most serene.
Written by
Christine
870
 
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