And never to open them again
Tomorrow the sun will still rise,
The morning dew will not wait for me
The bird will leave their nest and chirp joyously
The world will not stop, and for me nobody will cry.
Old friend, when tomorrow come without me
Let my words be left untold, let this poem be left unfinished.
For in my lackings, there laid my beauty.
That there is beauty, even in the absence of perfection.
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