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I sit staring at the end of the old tarnished road
the ripen leaves now begin to fall
the weeping willow gracefully sways
the cornfields scatter with the flocking crows
the sweet smell of barley and the musty smell of the old mill
the broken down well stands alone
i wish my fears away as i try to see a better way
the evening dew has now begun to fall
the night stars begin to twinkle
i head to the water front to sit and watch the ships come in
the misty line between the horizon and the heavens
and soon it becomes my favorite place
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