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FROM THE DARK TOWER We shall not always plant while others reap The golden increment of bursting fruit, Not always ... breast relieves the stark, White stars is no less lovely being dark, And there are buds that cannot bloom at all In light, but crumple, piteous, and fall; So in the dark we hide the heart that bleeds, And wait, and tend our agonizing seeds. Countee Cullen
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poetry: countee cullen

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Published: 2 months ago (Sun, 27 Sep 2009 11:05:09 PDT); 752 bytes
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