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66 Farewell VIII Can I bury this image on my mind? How come? Not even when to truth blind? He’d strained his waist to lay my foundation Erect and tall with pride to see me born With spring sprout brought by me, winged cherub To his heart whose beats resound with a throb. As he would he went, my own starts to beat Fast with rage for a parting dad so sweet. Yes, he’s been the nectar with me the bee Who tapped joy from his buds and drank sweet tea! Now, he’s gone with the source of my tears left To flood my cheeks as my cry tells of theft That broke this dam forcing questions to stream Out. Yet, my heart knows it should with joy scream! ...

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