You’ll find — it when you try to die
You’ll find — it when you try to die –
The Easier to let go –
For recollecting such as went –
You could not spare — you know.
And though their places somewhat filled –
As did their Marble names
With Moss — they never grew so full –
You chose the newer names –
And when this World — sets further back –
As Dying — say it does –
The former love — distincter grows –
And supersedes the fresh –
And Thought of them — so fair invites –
It looks too tawdry Grace
To stay behind — with just the Toys
We bought — to ease their place -
This poem was written/submitted by Emily Dickinson.
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