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Poetry Recommended


I am not guilty,


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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