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By Grand Central Station I Sat Down and Wept by Elizabeth Smart
A pheasant found a sunflower,
And perched on the arch,
And munched,
A little every day at an early hour.

What a way to go -
Obscene remains ragged on the tall stalk,
Startling the tactful dying all around,
The soothing autumn sinking-away-in-a-glow -

A murdered man on show!
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