Sorrow

Sorrow like a ceaseless rain Beats upon my heart. People twist and scream in pain,-- Dawn will find them still again; This has neither wax nor wane, Neither stop nor start.

People dress and go to town; I sit in my chair. All my thoughts are slow and brown: Standing up or sitting down Little matters, or what gown Or what shoes I wear.

Edna St. Vincent Millay

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Sorrow like a rain
Beats upon my .
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