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A Stroke Between Reality

What are you thinking
Don’t tell me in words
Paint me a picture
Of all the lovebirds
Singing a tune
In a key-so unheard
There wings fold in strokes
There flight is of freedom
But what they don’t know-
Is that someone can see them
There real in there, moving about
But who’s life is the real one
The painter or not?

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Robert Frost

Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening

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