Foolery, sir, does walk about the orb
like the sun; it shines everywhere
What's on the menu? I'm starved.
Grimly, he surveys the destroyed landscape, the black charred earth, the flattened trees.What caused this, he wonders. What creator would allow such dereliction?Where the bloody hell did that flaffy run off to?
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And none will hear the mailman knockWithout a quickening of the heart.For who can bear to feel himself forgotten?
For what are stars but asterisks. To point a human life?