Pill, I have seen every end
and every one will drop and bend
o’er the edge, into the rain
beats now upon my windowpane.
Pill, it comes not from all sides,
but from all cracks and all divides:
within, without or farther still.
It comes and comes and always will.
Pill, inside you may not keep
the final carrier to sleep;
the will, the strength to make things die
but that’s okay, for nor do I.
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