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■ The oak
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There is a God I don't have the talent to forget,
Too dreams to lie, I wish I had a green dog And I remained blue-eyed and white-haired Like while my oldest me once Upon a time. There was a story noone ever told, Not even knew, that's its secret, So there is no trace to follow, No grace to charm other's words And what's beyond. The God I started to doodle about, Was it happy when burying me into this cavernish coffin Called me? I cried for my first grave, But in vain... as always. I'm the worst joke he ever played anyone, One can hear only one laughter: mine, When reminding it; Haunted by its angels I need a place to play my loneliness Outside any shadow, So I yell: Here I am and I can't lose my mind!
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