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suicide poem

give me hunger
burly, dozing humble-bee
there is a country full of wine
perhaps
my true love from her pillow rose
night was black and drear
i saw him once before
the air is full of dawn and spring
with lips blood red and heart of stone
i make my shroud, but no one knows
musing, between the sunset and the dark
i love the old melodious lays
for these white arms about my neck
have you seen walking through the village

 



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