Another Bad Poem, Sorry
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Midnight -I know across the world the dawn is breaking. Somewhere beyond here there's a room full of sunbeams, dust, and cat hair, fading curtains, and sleepy morning dreams. Where I am it's dark, moonlight gleaming outside turning blackberry vines into a web of silver; spider's tapestries glisten, early dew and Inle's rays. Where you are, there's a sunrise, golden halos turning dust motes into something nearly sacred almost timeless priceless, certainly. It is midnight, and yet my heart seems warm as if it, somehow, can see the sun.
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