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Wretch (Free verse) by MacFrantic
The letter I dread is the word of the dead
Poisonous echoes will ring through my head
A fool digs the earth with a spade of wood
His hands are soiled but his heart is good
O my Lord what is this poor soul forsaken?
He dwells in the earth his spade has taken
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Arithmetic Mean: 3.3333333
Weighted score: 4.8013287
Overall Rank: 11181
Posted: November 28, 2006 1:38 AM PST; Last modified: November 28, 2006 1:38 AM PST
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