Oh, how in our childlike hearts still we mourn,
The passing of the unicorn
of gentle beauty and infinite grace
A creature unfit for our worlds pace
Yes, wait! For who's to say?
Perhaps even, now in some far distant forest glade
There still moves quietly in the cool and leafy shade
That timeless creature of a golden age,
That spirit of a shining dawn
That magic beast...the Unicorn
-Anonymous-
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My Poetry