oscar wilde
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They drip from my fingers like sap from a broken tree
I think them and they pour, especially in high weather
The weather that comes from tumultuous times.
A statue without sadness lives in pity,/ He is a beautiful prince and selfless./ His people are oblivious and are full of selfishness,/ Unbeknownst he is but the same./ A sparrow hurried by the cold stays in pity,/ He is devotedly loving while s
One day God looked down on a city filled with wealthy, happy people
And told His angels, “Go forth,
And bring me the city’s two most precious treasures.”
And the angels returned with a cracked lump of lead