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funny poetry

the old songs
gaily through the fields we danced
with lips blood red and heart of stone
the ancient songs
since i have felt the sense of death
let us express our baser passions
there is no flock, however watched and tended
do i like it
i said, i have shut my heart
among the smoke and fog of a december afternoon
dear wife
sleep sweetly in your humble graves
gloom
happiness

 



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