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| >> Static Item >> Poetry >> Nonsense >> ID #1480082 |
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I lay down into my bed
All these thoughts roll through my head Of everything I've done and said And what I should have done instead And of the days that lie ahead Even those after I'm dead. Yet as these grains of thought do spread And plant themselves as weights of lead To pull me down and slow my tread One seed grows to shroud my dread. [Uhm...to be continued, I guess.]
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