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suicide poem

lo! 'tis a gala night
the single clenched fist lifted and ready
i gazed upon the glorious sky
how shall i help to right the world that is going wrong
here falls no light
to clothe the fiery thought
a blue-black nubian plucking oranges
are you awake?
by the shore, by the sea
with the meek, brown eyes
with the sunset
i said
let us plant

 



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