Will tomorrow be as bitter as today?
Will I still cry, still be in dismay,
Still feel the cold, and only the cold of tomorrow.
As I do today, this hour, this minutes sorrow? ...
Upon this world we are of fixed hue,
Of just black, just white, or of just brown,
And together old we grow, as were once new,
And do with us they bloom, as with us they frown; ...
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