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Poetry Recommended
Conscience
I am not guilty,
however,
Whose is this mind which is so fearful?
When I pray
With a beautiful meaning,
How unkind the world is!
Having born his cross
Up Golgotha Hill,
An innocent man!
I envied you.
I am bearing a big burden,
So I can not desert ordeals yet,
My desolate mind is far and far,
But who in the world has known me
In an impatient time?
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