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Untitled (Sonnet) by MacFrantic
âTis thee of whom they speak, this much is true
When sayest they what I dare not to say
That Autumnâs brilliance dulls, if not for you
And if thou late awake, morn shall delay
Hear now all the flattâry thou hast consumed
That satisfies the oâerflowed confidence
Should Vanity be with your breath entombed
Consider now; fools wise still have no sense
To love and be loved are but separate things
Such paths I hope shall be forever crossed
For some, a joy accepting life may bring
But in shadow some know their path is lost
Let golden voices tell thee golden curses
And truths be black, Iâll dare to tell in verses
Please give me tips because this is for a contest.
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