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| >> Static Item >> Poetry >> Romance/Love >> ID #1492433 |
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Milwaukee closed its Northern door,
The door, this door upon the shore. This closed gate, securer of fate Without a key, without debate. The door upon the shore now locked And through the arch trespass is blocked. From the best and worse of my days, The door swung shut from eyes that gaze. Their gaze, the stares at the old man That got up and finally ran. And as he passed through the last room He looked back once upon his tomb. Then into the storm overhead, Remembering all that was said Of the present and of the past, A past that wouldn’t be surpassed.
© Copyright 2008 jimmyfin (UN: jimmyfin at Writing.Com).
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