The happy poem:
The sun in the sky shines ever so brightly
The wind moves the grass oh so slightly
The world is peaceful, the world is calm
On an island somewhere, there grows a palm
On this palm a coconut sprouts, and a lifetime it takes
To grow to full and drop onto the sand
To be washed away by the waves.
Dead:
The world is black
no sound at all
'Tis boring now
I've creased my brow
I'm not dead
not yet at least
the gunshot sounds
I fall off the edge
Being dead isn't so bad
but it's not a fad
So, how did I do?




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