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6/12/2005
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A favorite dish, beyond the grasp,
the sweetest nectar, the drop of last.
The finest clothes, beyond your price,
The car you want, you wish on twice.
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The hand so fair, The eyes of beauty,
The flowing hair, beyond my rreach.
The solace soul, an empty void,
The joyless yearns for such devoids.
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I close my eyes and see the ledge,
So close and near to plunge ahead.
But for the whispers in my head,
I'm certain then that I'll be dead.
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