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Keith Ren
Poems
Dec 2010
Aunt Hills
too young for Her touch
too young for Her need
she took from me power
at the foot of Her greed
though lovely Her lines were
she passed over bounds
submission desire
was all that i found
a score and half later
only now do i ask
what set Her in motion
this unsavory task
i yearn to know peacefuls
i ache to know sane
though Her unripened taking
is my heart's fruitful bane
this picnic's ruined
Written by
Keith Ren
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