Another Miserable Poem

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Complaints are but a pillow
To soften our resting grief
The words of hate surround us
And provide a spoken relief

But words alone will not elude misery
If he still asks you to dance
He will devour all but your skeleton
If you only give him the chance

And so we pick our poisons
Until our corpses smell
For life is but a loveless marriage
As he drags us all to hell

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