Pompoususs wrote to say how better
Than anyone else’s his verse was,
Spent too many words about it, and ah
The world did not yet love him
Quite enough. So full of laziness and crazy
With the world’s voices, endless leaves
Piling in the roof gutters, how to reply?
I determined not to write that letter,
Not one letter. The years flew.
Fearless sprinted across a field, mad
Muscles whispered, crows and magpies,
Sundry brown and mottled birds
Paid attention, oh why is everything blue
Today, not bright, the sky dark and sad
A day for never writing letters.
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