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I slept all day.
The birds do thus
That sing a while
At eve for us

To have you soon
I gave away —
Well satisfied
To give — a day

Life’s not so short
I care to keep
The unhappy days;
I choose to sleep.

When it is dark, the saints see stars. And when the days are unhappy, Frost chooses to sleep.

– The purpose of life is to sing
http://www.shivpreetsingh.com

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