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What will they think of me when I am dead,

The thought entered into my head,

Will I be missed by anyone,

When time’s caĺled and I am done.

 

I’m often found to be alone,

Or sat with drink having a moan,

A furrowed brow and seldom smile,

Happiness, it’s been a while.

 

So in answer to my thought,

My life is done, my leson taught,

I leave the world as it I found,

Alone, just earth, under the mound.

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