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May 4
Here is quiet, breezy cold air,
life is one dazzling snare.
Where snow orchid blossom,
I find cool summer, warm winter;
but greatness never come sooner...
My back disobey, the wind is too cold.
My ear speaks, the peak alone.
I wanted to be great, to be dazzling,
must my heart make a killing?
old willow
Written by
old willow  17/M
(17/M)   
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