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Rated: E · Poetry · Other · #1696976
a short poem that rings in my head
Clouds



Over the jagged rocks

And through the wispy clouds

Many the weary fool has trod

Cloaked in their burial shrouds

Trod farther than the eye can see

Shame-faced through the milling crowds

Each of them marching tirelessly

Not seeing their bleak surrounds

Each with a hope of Heaven

For each, a home in the clouds{/linespace
}
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