In three words I can sum up everything I've learned about life: it goes on.
Poetry is about the grief. Politics is about the grievance.
Nature's first green is gold, Her hardest hue to hold. Her early leaf's a flower; But only so an hour. Then leaf subsides to leaf. So Eden sank to grief, So dawn goes down to day. Nothing gold can stay.
All those who try to go it sole alone, Too proud to be beholden for relief, Are absolutely sure to come to grief.
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