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Pilgrims’ Evergreen
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10 Pilgrims’ Evergreen On a grim land these grim pilgrims grin At their dreamland coloured evergreen The painter’s brush had left them to hope In that land, their tears will never rope Down their cheeks as has been forced to flood And drown all hopeful whose stolen nod Beamed with all but grin at promises Schemes soon extinct in the premises In which unclad shamans display might And reign sitting on the pilgrims’ plight: Grim or green. What matters is these lords’ Disdain leaving the world short of words But not those to point out the foibles In which lords bathe at dinner table For their belly’s first, for the rest? Bones! To show around and just fleshless bones! ...