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BAD BARD POETRY
Death
Death, sweet death
It’s time for me
I’m old, decrepit
And no longer see
My bones they ache
So don’t be shy
The shine is fading
From my eye.
It’s getting late
I can’t stand straight,
And can’t improve
My sorry state
Come, the friend
I long to meet,
We’ll let another
Have my seat.
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