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This poem is about a woman who killed her husband. An insane and demoralize person maybe. |
| As I change the sheets of the bed, I now escape the loneliness in my head, I bathe thee with the smooch of the sponge; I now weep for my dead husband that had lunged I could smell the rotten corpse, As I kiss the lips of a man who made it worse, I now envy him for he could dread; In ethereal home of the land of the dead, The lanky man has fear of death; Is now embracing the moment of threat, Never I shall mourn to thee, 'Coz I'll be with him without any fee, The cruelty is now mine, For I kill my lover with a bottle of wine, They say insanity feeds most of me, For I just had the most normal thing to see. |