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I wrote this last semester.  I was drawing the picture and decided it needed a poem.  Neither is my best, but I like the mix of medias.

At the window

Purple curtains

Tied up by gold threads

Shows the setting sun

And ends

Another day.

The gold of the sun

Dulls the gold thread

And the bark of the old trees

Reminds the wood

Of what it was

And red walls

Make one wonder

If the red sunlight

Made the walls

Or if blood

From ancient battles

Painted my home.

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