

winter?Forgotten in the rapid wind The blue jay lost his trill, And a thousand flakes of winter Instead our memories fill. Not a single note of solitudewinter?
Has passed across our minds, Yet alone in the flurrying blizzard Lonliness we find. The trees provide scarce company The flowers been put to rest, And the opressing chill of winter Has silenced the travelers' request. No steps of faith have left Daring footprints in the snow, And underneath the ice, A river has yet to flow. The window pane has cracked, Frost gathers at the split. Between insi
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I could be bounded in a nutshell and count myself a king of infinite space.
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I could be bounded in a nutshell and count myself a king of infinite space.
mystery hottie-pants
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The function of the artist is to provide what life does not.
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