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woods

Down through the woods, damp and dark,

I walk on the thorns, there not a meadowlark.

With the winds, do I glide,

Shadow joins me, with the stride.

There isn’t a day, long forgotten,

Where lies my soul, torn and trodden.

Far across the woods, there flows the river,

Will I reach or may I not, thoughts make me quiver.

Love,

~Annie

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