𝑹𝒐𝒑𝒆 𝒊𝒏 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒅, 𝒆𝒚𝒆𝒔 𝒇𝒊𝒙𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒐𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒐𝒘,
𝑻𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒔 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒅𝒐𝒘𝒏 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒃𝒓𝒖𝒊𝒔𝒆𝒅 𝒇𝒂𝒄𝒆,
𝑨𝒍𝒍 𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒔 𝒕𝒐 𝒅𝒐 𝒊𝒔 𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒄𝒆,
𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝒗𝒐𝒊𝒄𝒆𝒔 𝒈𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒍𝒐𝒖𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒊𝒏 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒅, 𝒕𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒉𝒊𝒎 𝒊𝒕'𝒔 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒈𝒐.𝑯𝒆'𝒔 𝒔𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒅𝒐 𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒉𝒆'𝒍𝒍 𝒓𝒆𝒈𝒓𝒆𝒕,
𝑯𝒊𝒔 𝒇𝒂𝒎𝒊𝒍𝒚, 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒔, 𝒔𝒐𝒄𝒊𝒆𝒕𝒚, 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒊𝒔 𝒅𝒓𝒊𝒗𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒉𝒊𝒎 𝒊𝒏𝒔𝒂𝒏𝒆,
𝑨𝒍𝒍 𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒅𝒐 𝒊𝒔 𝒄𝒓𝒚 𝒂𝒈𝒂𝒊𝒏𝒔𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒐𝒘𝒑𝒂𝒏𝒆,
𝑨𝒔 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒔𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒔 𝒇𝒍𝒐𝒘 𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒅.𝑯𝒊𝒔 𝒄𝒖𝒕𝒔 𝒈𝒐 𝒎𝒖𝒄𝒉 𝒅𝒆𝒆𝒑𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒌𝒊𝒏,
𝑨𝒇𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒂 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒍𝒆, 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒑𝒔 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒘𝒔,
𝑩𝒖𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒔 𝒐𝒏 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒏𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒈𝒐,
𝑯𝒆 𝒘𝒐𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝒊𝒇 𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒘𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒈𝒐 𝒕𝒐 𝒉𝒆𝒍𝒍 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒉,
𝑩𝒆𝒄𝒂𝒖𝒔𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒊𝒏 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒊𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒂 𝒔𝒊𝒏.
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Poetry"𝘗𝘰𝘦𝘵𝘪𝘤 𝘈𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘵𝘪𝘤" 𝘪𝘴 𝘢 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘱𝘰𝘦𝘮𝘴, 𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘨𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘤𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦'𝘴 𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘦, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘦𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘴, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘰...