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Woe pt. VII: Wilt Tilt
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Extended Poetry Oh, woe the wilted blossom
Browned and crispened by autumn
It must make crowded room
For the clutter of the winter snow
Drenching the earth painful white
Killing eyes within the sun
And wilts our vision down
Like the old flower
Far too over the great hill
And at the bottom of the other side
