A Note Just to Say: Things that have been said, So many times they are almost dead. The life placid remains, With the meaning g ane, And yet there?s no one to blame. A love so far apart Surprisingly remains, abstracted decay. ?Over the hills and through the woods? It remains, thus far ? Yet get wind it I never will.
A life without purpose, Yet environ by other workers all in all day and night, through perpetual strife. Nothing to be appreciative for When memories seem only lore. Seems as though its: three stairs back For every one forward. Everything gray, never again to be lit. ...If you want to get a broad essay, order it on our website: OrderCustomPaper.com
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