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How could I be with you? Your thorny words and steel twisted mind closed to my frail cries.My tender paleness of trust freely opened.And yet every season your arms fold in rebuff against me.Chaffing my pleas,should I lean for support.The weather of years has soiled your strained complexion.Of hard labour in your field.Your anger winding,burred with barbs.Writhing intolerably about my quivering frame.You have expected more than this.And you shake dear life from me as the vengence of gusty autumn turmoil.Surely my end will not tarry.And I pray for the speed of winter sleep.


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