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Robert Connery (Poem, 1970)

Robert Connery was the young man,


Walking calmly on dangerous land.


He often walked these mountain slopes,


When repairing his broken hopes.


He had been here many times before,


As attested by the path he wore.


His face was masked in a frown.


His eyes only looking at the ground.


Today there had been a tragedy.


Today the slopes offered just one remedy,


So Robert Connery from the path did stray,


Now at the cliff’s bottom his body lay.

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