Weep no more my precious verse
Wipe your tear my dear stanza
You cannot be decorated now
You can never be feted today
They have chosen to sit soundless
It’s a choice that they are noiseless
They are waiting for my death
They are waiting for my demise-day
Then they shall rush
to give you a life
And decorate you my verse
And build you a painted podium
Where to call you marvelous medium
And you shall have even a grand night
Your moon to shine with might
Your stars to twinkle very bright
So weep not my dear; wipe your tear
As you can see your time will come
Only when they no longer call my name
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