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Jan 2013
I do not speak of years to come,
I rarely speak of days.
I do not know
What tomorrow holds,
But let it come,
Come what may.

And should it hide
It's weary head,
And if, my friend,
My years should end,
My secrets are yours to hide,
When I am dead.
Lilly Tereza
Written by
Lilly Tereza
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