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- Mean As Custard (
calico_pye) wrote,
Mean As Custard
calico_pye
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William Blake- The Sick Rose
O Rose thou art sick. The invisible worm, That flies in the night In the howling storm: Has found out thy bed Of crimson joy: And his dark…
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In a Station of the Metro - by Ezra Pound
The apparition of these faces in the crowd; Petals on a wet, black bough.
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Virginia Woolf Would Be Proud
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