(Look
First on This)
He’s
full of mirth, he wants to dance
He lacks no joy that you could name;
He
is too full for utterance,
Because his coal bin is the same.
(And Then on This)
He’s
full of grief, he’s in a mess,
He feels as though he’d lost the game;
He’s
simply full of emptiness,
Because his coal bin is the same.
Oct.
21, ‘09
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