The Black Cuckoo
B
Bijay Kant Dubey
0
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Coos it so sweetly that aches it here
The poor heart of mine,
Poor and love-lorn,
Broken and torn
And here lie I aching with the pain of mine,
Whom to say to,
All about love,
The heart of a loverly man
And it goes aching and aching and I in search
Of finding some hemlock
By putting the palm on the heart
Trying to console and bandage my broken self.
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