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suicide poem

among the smoke and fog of a december afternoon
a storm is riding on the tide
do the boys and girls still go
so fallen
if i were very sure
the body may confine
one by one, like leaves from a tree
all day to watch the blue wave curl and break
do i like it
some of the hurts you have cured
muffled drum's sad roll has beat
i had over-prepared the event

 



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