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Life's Slacker

The saddest sort of death to die
Would be to quit the game called life
And know, beneath the gentle sky,
You'd lived a slacker in the strife.
That nothing men on earth would find
To mark the spot that you had filled;
That you must go and leave behind
No patch of soil your hands had tilled.

I know no greater shame than this:

To feel that yours were empty years;
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7/24/2021 10:05:50 PM # 1.0.0.663