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Another Place
What do I see behind those rows,
Those rows of trees where no one goes?
A spark of life I think there grows;
Perhaps a place where Joel goes.
The downpour turns to winter snows
When weather reaches winter lows,
Where are we now? Nobody knows.
Perhaps a place where Joel goes.
To hold this long and tiring pose
Can bring much grief and strife and woes.
Where is that sweet, sweet smelling rose?
Perhaps a place where Joel goes.
Poetry Index
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