I wrote about the wild winter wind
As it stung the flesh and caused tears to fall;
I wrote about the blazing sun, solitude
And melancholy, the soul's itinary:
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I write about the choices, difficult And irremediable that a woman has to make, Like stolen moments from destiny's time. Superb! I am not a woman, so not quite sure what you meant by the difficult and irremediable choices that a woman has to make. I show my foreign face to unfamilar winds On beautiful bridges. Some pages of verse Accompany me on melancholic days. Very touchy! Cheer up, my dear poet!
I show my foreign face to unfamilar winds On beautiful bridges. Some pages of verse Accompany me on melancholic days. beautiful write