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suicide poetry

all my love for my sweet
up and down he goes
out of the sparkling sea
this is the ship of pearl
often is it not so?
the earth keeps some vibration going
afraid no more, i say
under a spreading chestnut tree
there are three ways in which men take
sleep, gray brother of death
i went up and down the streets
in the cloud-gray mornings
mid pleasures and palaces though we may roam
i am old and blind

 



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