Is It Poetry
No More Sorrow
The cherry blossoms bloom, the misty rain.
I can not be free, unless all really are!
And my music from the lute, you lured me out.
The mountain tops above the clouds the sea.
I have hazel eyes and my country by you is.
Free and open sight for a new England.
China bamboo green and see through screens.
America is our country and it truly is.
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