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An Ode To A Lateefa
What makes a woman's beauty.
That rises like the sun and sets with old age
Many have been praised in flesh and blood
But to decay and for the termites to devour.

But you, my friend, are every fair from fair.
Your virtue is of a unique class and rare
A large heart, full of treasures that you bear
Your palms wide like heavens gate and all you share
Your head crowned in wisdom and...