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It was a hot day in mid July heat; the city in decay, its asphalt melt’d– hurry-hurry said my feet in a beat. In mid July city heat, she depart’d Still, the cicadas kept on buzzing, and the city kept on living–the city nev’r stops living–while the hot sun always lend its rays: on this day, she left forever. But she wasn’t the only one who left–this time not on life’s watch, this time she really went. This goodbye was the most sour lime– the most sour fruit life has fed me! This meant: when one leaves the world, other trips have start’d when love leaves you, so Dearly Depart’d!
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Mar 5, 2015
Mar 5, 2015 at 4:20 AM UTC
Sonnet II
It was a hot day in mid July heat; the city in decay, its asphalt melt’d– hurry-hurry said my feet in a beat. In mid July city heat, she depart’d Still, the cicadas kept on buzzing, and the city kept on living–the city nev’r stops living–while the hot sun always lend its rays: on this day, she left forever. But she wasn’t the only one who left–this time not on life’s watch, this time she really went. This goodbye was the most sour lime– the most sour fruit life has fed me! This meant: when one leaves the world, other trips have start’d when love leaves you, so Dearly Depart’d!
I was attending a funeral of a dear family friend when I was simultaneously departed from my first love.
PhilipHedge
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Mar 5, 2015
Mar 5, 2015 at 4:20 AM UTC
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