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On Being Born (Free verse) by emilyowey
James, my baby, died one day And love did leave me lonely. He breathed one day and died the same. I could not see the change. He did not smile, as I once did, On living one more hour. Yet looked content in what he had, And yes, he probably was.

Up the ladder: Silencing the Silenced
Down the ladder: Game Play

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Arithmetic Mean: 7.0
Weighted score: 5.2384057
Overall Rank: 4124
Posted: September 4, 2004 9:47 PM PDT; Last modified: February 3, 2005 11:06 AM PST
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zodiac

Comments:
[10] horus8 @ 24.130.62.63 | 4-Sep-04/10:29 PM | Reply
This is quite possibly the saddest, and most precise poem I've ever read. I am so sorry.
[9] Dovina @ 24.52.157.176 > horus8 | 5-Sep-04/10:35 AM | Reply
Please, at least point out the grammar and spelling.
[9] wilco @ 24.165.207.93 | 3-Feb-05/3:55 PM | Reply
I like this. Sad and lovely, in my eyes anyway.
[10] zodiac @ 212.38.134.51 | 6-Feb-05/1:20 AM | Reply
Great. Are you really Emily Dickinson?
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