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The sunset is the only death we anticipate; the dead leaves in Autumn is the only massacre we fathom as magical.
Let suicide not be the next thing to celebrate; let the death of our happy thoughts not make our worlds dull.
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YOU ARE READING
Poem Addiction
Poetry"A poet's greatest strength is his words; his greatest weakness is his emotions; his greatest addiction is his paper that is the world he lives in." -Eskay Kitz-
