There was a Poet whose only Reading was Poetry
Whose only work was Poetry
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What would happen to us all?
If You are Not,
How can we ever hope to be for long?
If You were lost-
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What would happen to us all?
If You are not
How can we ever hope to be for long?
If You were lost-
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To write is to live
Life without Poetry is no Life at all-
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Courage is what an old man needs
To not give in
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I miss them and remember them
And think of them
And know I will never see them again
They were good to me
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The sun begins to shine again
Morning light is here-
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DEATH INSIDE
Death inside
Is also a fear-
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Silence will come over everything
Worlds will go on in their own way
But in me I will cease to be-
There will never be a poem again
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Even in our blessings
In what we have prayed for
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