Damond's poems for Friday, May 18, 2007

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Friday, May 18, 2007

A Band Of Gold

A band of gold-- A band so old-- It belonged to my mother. On your hand I wanted it to go. You made it plain-- You wanted another. The band is so dear to me; This you could not see. I bought you another band; I placed it on your hand. Now I find you live in a foreign land. You did not want the band;... Sign in to see full entry.

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