Emily Dickinson Poems

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We do not play on Graves --
Because there isn't Room --
Besides -- it isn't even -- it slants
And People come --

And put a Flower on it --
And hang their faces so --
We're fearing that their Hearts will drop --
And crush our pretty play --

And so we move as far
As Enemies -- away --
Just looking round to see how far
It is -- Occasionally --

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