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B H
Poems
Nov 2012
Today,
My father wrote music
to relieve his sorrow.
I never truly believed in such a method.
Sorrow is bone deep.
Simple actions cannot relieve it.
You have to let your bones grow old first.
Only then will they have been relieved of their burden.
But by then it will not matter,
for your bones will have warped
to accommodate such a weight.
Written by
B H
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