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How Many Graves Can You Dig Before Your Own?
Too many difficult days accumulate
Like weeds in an otherwise pleasant field;
Every heartache becomes a hammer
And drives depression into the soul like a nail;
Some friends alleviate the sorrow like a balm
And others gently kiss your cheek like Judas;
I dream of a drunken avenue in the summer
Where children play and cars move slowly and sweet
Like a merry-go-round and no one is unhappy.
I want only to toast the departing of sunlight at dusk
And have the moonlight pour my next glass of wine;
I seek to dance for awhile and then welcome oblivion,
I cherish the day when mirrors will no longer take notice of me.
poem
by
Uriah Hamilton
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