Day

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Day

Where most surely comes a day

When all the sweets you’ve gourged

Will turn your stomach sick

And all the friends you’ve loved

Will go away

And every gold swift hour

Will be an hour of pain

And every sun-filled cloud

A cloud of rain

And even the withered flowers

Will lose their long-held faint perfume

And you alone will be with you

In that last room⁠—

Only your single selves together

Facing a single doom.