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sympathy poem

stay no more
those black eyes i once so praised
uplifting, as the wind blew
perhaps it is no matter that you died
along the banks
sleep sweetly in your humble graves
beneath my window in a city street
with the meek, brown eyes
gingham dog and the calico cat
there was a strangeness on your lips
i make my shroud, but no one knows
which keeps

 



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