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broken heart poem

she said
it is true that you say the gods are more use to you than fairies
full of tears
those on the top say they know you, earth-they are liars
he speaks not well
suddenly, out of dark and leafy ways
the endless, foolish merriment of stars
be in me as the eternal moods
death's nobility again
night was black and drear
at dawn, he said

 



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