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memorial poem

why are the things that have no death
i fill this cup
if i were very sure
we lay
skies they were ashen and sober
i wonder where you live
why then, must we see?
the smell of the rose so false, the thorns so true
dear wife
the earth keeps some vibration going
royal feast was done
white foam flower, red flame flower
how shall i help to right the world that is going wrong

 



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