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If I shouldn't be alive
When the Robins come,
Give the one in Red Cravat,
A Memorial crumb.
If I couldn't thank you,
Being fast asleep,
You will know I'm trying
Why my Granite lip!
If I Shouldn't Be Alive
Emily Dickinson
(1)
Poem topics: red, fast, I love you, I miss you, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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