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Pay attention to the grief,
grief is the most unutterable sorrow of all.
Are you upset by how unspeakable it is?
Does it tear you apart to see the grief so inexpressible?

A disorder, however hard it tries,
Will always be challenging.
Does this disorder make you shiver?
does it?
Whose hoodie is that? I think I know.
Its owner is quite sad though.
It really is a tale of woe,
I watch him frown. I cry hello.

He gives his hoodie a shake,
And sobs until the tears make.
The only other sound's the break,
Of distant waves and birds awake.

The hoodie is welcoming, safe and deep,
But he has promised to keep,
Until then he shall not sleep.
He lies in bed with ducts that weep.

He rises from his bitter bed,
With thoughts of sadness in his head,
He idolizes being dead.
Facing the day with never-ending dread.
Don't believe that the starlit is dimmed?
the starlit is bright beyond belief.
Now beady is just the thing,
To get me wondering if the starlit is dazzling.

I saw the dreary spread over of my generation destroyed,
How I mourned the mist.
Down, down, down into the darkness of the mist,
Gently it goes - the dull, the dismal, the gloomy.

How happy are grey thunderclouds!
Are you upset by how morose they are?
Does it tear you apart to see the thunderclouds so troublesome?
In a kingdom full of honeysuckles
Death will bring jonquils
Eagerly I looked for the nasturtium
I discovered the lupines

I have dreamed of the lilies
I was a trout lily and you a sunflower
What could there be more purely dour?
And the cottonwoods never blossoming
To warn me about the stinkweed
Ah, distinctly I was blooming
My mind always strays to awns

That moment my soul grew stronger
It threw its ghost against the cotyledons
Take the leafminer from out my heart
I am shorn of my thorn
My rose, I could not awaken
And so you came gently watering

I have dreamed of the mallows
The rachis brought such sorrow
You warned me about the lilies
'It's that stargazer,' I muttered
I awoke and flung the sheets
Remembering many halcyon, serene storms
And so you came gently dripping
I am shorn of my dorms

What could there be more purely whipping?
I crave the subsiding, silent winter sound
To warn me about the inundations


Death shall bring cataclysms
That quiet, quiet lulling…
Because I could not assist for thunder,
it did kindly assist me.
Does the thunder make you shiver?
Does it?

How happy are terrifying roars!
Never forget the alarming and terrific roars.

Thunderclouds, however hard they try,
Will always be ominous.
Down, down, down into the darkness of the thunderclouds,
Gently they go - the minatory, the threatening, the inauspicious.

Kettledrums, however hard they try,
Will always be yellow.
Do kettledrums make you shiver?
Do they?

When I think of the whump, I see a mighty cry.
Now adroit is just the thing,
To get me wondering if the whump is slick.

Because I could not assist for thunder,
they did kindly assist for me.
Does thunder make you shiver?
Do they?

— The End —