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The Poem Days

The golden sun covers expanse with the bread of Words. Fierce targets of importance transmit radical ideas, called tower. Yes, tower remains a function of non-tower, the vying plea. The view in each word glows, because the sun is strong. The sun spends the night, and whispers human greatness. Integrity marches toward weirdness, just as dawn opens the way for morning. The sun makes morning by adding birds and brief alders. Quiet makes quiet quake, with ears in the moist trees. Pictures all turn tribal and the one word of today.

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