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Like a ghost I dance on floors

Frozen by the winter chill

Breathed out by hearts lost in bitter doles

Waiting for spring still

Though existence be denied me

My veins drained of precious blood stretch stymied

Through their valleys of death

Like golden river beds

Laid out to gather the remains of souls

Starved of love, of kindness

I gather their tears in bowls

To trade them back to them in likeness

I exhale horror and blow

Into poor souls feeding from the rich trough

Of time’s questionable giving

And I cry for their poverty of mind

As it leaves me shivering

In a gilded cage unkind

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