The following is a poem I began writing in high school(circa 1983) and finished in 2000.
A Band of Gypsies Wander
A bone chilling wind blows from the north. There is mystic magic in the air, somewhere in between good and evil, helping some and cursing others. A band of gypsies wander.
A crescent moon is hanging, glowing in the midnight blue. Beneath it strange things are happening while band o…
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