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Click hereMy old friend who's there
Always,
Lifting me up,
Even when it's you
That's dying.
The black beast grows there,
Cruel payment for love
Offered,
My heart breaks 'cause
You're dying.
Thankyou old friend we're
Mourning,
But yet you haven't,
Even left us yet,
By dying.
I pray that you don't
Journey
Away from here,
Too early to scent
The living.
One last romp through fields,
Autumn
Drifting through the
Berry patches as they
Fade dying.
Pick the fruits of Earth,
Old friend,
Your passage will be
Felt by all who know
Your living.
Innocence is yours,
Your slumber eternally,
Lasting
Peaceful in your going,
Rest old friend..
This poem was selected from Lit's archive of over 40,000 poems for inclusion in today's Archival Review.<br>
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