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Page:Flame and Shadow.djvu/157

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SONG MAKING

My heart cried like a beaten child
Ceaselessly all night long;
I had to take my own cries
And thread them into a song.


One was a cry at black midnight
And one when the first cock crew
My heart was like a beaten child,
But no one ever knew.


Life, you have put me in your debt
And I must serve you long—
But oh, the debt is terrible
That must be paid in song.

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