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Rain drops from above
Gently quench a dry meadow...
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Sun burns with sunsets,
slithering lights wither...
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at midnight,
i want to tip toe my way...
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Like waves
that retreat and climb...
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May I tag along as a ghost?
I have no place to reside...
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crumple this up after you're done reading
because honesty is a beast in drunken stupor...
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I am sorry for loving you so much
I myself have never seen such...
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On my return,
I notice the flat...
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In the village of Heydon,
a civil parish of Norfolk, England...
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Shall I compare you to a rose?
You were by far more beautiful...
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hand-picked wildflowers stamped into the letters
you’d rattle off, were easily one of my...
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The gales howled down
out of my house...